The Unfair Way To Go
by AnabellaHunter13
Summary: Spinoff to the original Sam story. Sam and Carl are both 17 now, they've just arrived at the Alexandria Safe Zone. Everything seems to be going right, of course, then everything starts to go wrong. Not canon to the actual Sam story, just "Hey this is something that could happen"
1. March 30th

It all started with a headache.

We'd been travelling for a while now. Probably over a year. For my 17th birthday, Carl got me an old calendar, and since I estimated when the year began, I've been counting the days. I figure that since no one else is counting, I'm allowed to start time over and begin whenever I want to. That's how that works, right?

Time has changed us all. We hadn't seen much action since Terminus, we found a place not too long after that, but it was overrun within a few months and we've been on the road ever since. We meandered around northern Georgia for a while until we got a new lead, a new place. It was far, way up in Virginia, Alexandria they said. But it was real close to Washington D.C., which was where Abraham, Eugene, Rosita, Tyreese, Sasha, Bob and Tara were headed. But who knows if they're still alive. We parted ways back when we found that place I mentioned before. Some of us wanted to stay, but Abraham had a mission. And the others, they wanted to save the world too, or something like that.

The rest of us, Carl, Rick, Daryl, Beth, Michonne, Carol, Judith, and I, stuck together. Well, until Carol got bit 6 months ago, it was a sad loss, but I had mourned her death a long time ago, before it happened, foolishly assuming what I was hearing was right. The second time around the pain was sharper, but I felt it for a shorter period of time. A couple days ago, we were around the Virginia border when we found a couple cars with some gas and now we're only a couple miles outside of Alexandria.

Personally, I don't have high hopes for the place, I've been wary of 'safe havens' ever since Terminus turned out to be a cannibal feeding ground disaster. I carry a Glock 19 now, along with my knife. I decided I was tired of being pretty much helpless when it came to long distance situations. I run my fingers over the gun in efforts to try and settle my uneasy stomach. We're less than an hour away from Alexandria and I still don't know how all this is gonna go down.

I'm in a car with Rick, Carl, Michonne, and Judith. God, Judith's gotten to be big. I mean, small for a four year old, but she's not a baby anymore. She's talking in pretty full sentences and walking around quite easily. She's got thin, soft, dirty blonde hair to her shoulders and has managed to sustain her baby fat in her face. Though her little arms, legs, and torso are unacceptably skinny. We've tried to keep her a happy child, she smiles a lot and I can only hope she won't become hardened and cold. But in this world, that's next to impossible. She wears these dirty, black and white polka dotted leggings, with a tunic kind of shirt that too is dirty and white, with a big flower on it. The tunic is too big for her small frame and the leggings are probably a size too small. It's hard to make this small child's life good in this world.

She's seated in a car seat between Carl and I, Michonne and Rick are in the front seat. Carl's entertaining her now, he's changed too. He's gone from cute and hot, to seriously handsome and sexy, I kind of think it's not fair. He's shot up half a foot easily, and is around Rick's height now. I've managed to grow a couple more inches, but he's got a serious height advantage on me now.

Around a year ago, his hair was resting on his shoulders and it was really getting too long, so when we ran across a pair of scissors one day while ransacking a store, we made a deal. I cut his hair if he got to cut mine. Mine ended up pretty uneven and jagged at around my shoulders and his was only a little less jagged up on his ears. Neither of us would've had careers in the barber industry in the old world.

Now his dark brown mop is covering his ears again, the sheriff hat rests in his lap because he's too tall to wear it in the car anymore. He's filled out a little, but is still incredibly lanky. The freckles that used to dot his cheeks have faded to near nothingness, but you get him in the right light and there they still are. His face has matured quite a bit, but his eyes are still that same reliable blue. Just along his jawline, there's just the slightest bit of facial hair trying to crop up. I admittedly have been teasing him about his lack of ability to grow said facial hair, but he always just plays it off. It's kinda cute really. He still wears flannel over a t-shirt and cargo pants.

I've changed some too, but not as much as Carl, like I said I've squeaked up another couple inches, and my hair is about to my armpits. I'm still an unhealthy, malnourished kind of skinny, but somehow I've gotten this little curve in where my waist line is, which frankly I don't understand. I'm wearing a faded purple and white striped 3/4 length shirt and some ripped up skinny jeans, which are baggy on me. I'm glad my feet haven't grown, but the soles of my Doc Martens are sadly beginning to wear thin. My old, faithful beanie sits comfortably on my choppy mess of dull honey hair.

I look at Carl and smile, he still loves his little sister as much as the day she was born, if not more. She's giggling at him as he plays dolls with her. That's right, Carl Grimes is playing with Barbie's, and it's adorable and hilarious.

A sudden sharp pain in my head makes me wince, and I hold my head in my hands, trying to make it stop. When that doesn't work, I bite my tongue as though to distract myself from the pain. It feels like my brain is pushing up against my skull. After a moment it resigns to a dull ache, which is uncomfortable, but not unbearable.

Carl gives me a look when I sit back up, he's obviously trying to keep Judith happy, but there's a certain look of concern that refuses to vacate his expression. I shake my head at him signifying that it's nothing. It's probably nothing, right? I mean headaches are nothing new, it probably has something to do with my dehydration, we haven't had any water for a couple days now.

"Cawl," Judith says, "I'm thirsty." she sticks out her lower lip at him and he looks pained.

"I'm sorry Judy, we haven't got anything to drink, but we'll be somewhere with water soon, I promise." Carl comforts her. His expression makes my heart hurt, because I know there's nothing he wouldn't do to make his baby sister happy. I look sadly at him, and he looks back at me, and I know we're thinking the same thing. We hope it's not like Terminus.

Judith nods and they go back to their game of dolls.

"We're real close now," Rick says.

My hand settles over my gun again, it's going to be ok. I reassure myself, it's going to be ok.

We've entered Alexandria about 10 minutes later, and we're just looking around for actual life. We don't really have an idea as to where in Alexandria this 'safe haven' is. We've heard it's on the river, but there's a lot of Alexandria on the river so it's hard to say where to go. Michonne uses a map to navigate us to the river, and from there we drive around until we see a wall. It's not really like the walls at Woodbury, composed of trucks and tanks and anything else to keep the walkers out. It's more like a gated community kind of wall, we drive around until we get to the gate of the place. From inside the car, I can see activity through the gate. Rick stops the car and he gets out. Carl and I look at each other, exchanging glances. Judith looks up from her doll playing.

"Why we stop?" she looks at Carl and then at me

"Because we're here!" I smile excitedly at her

Her eyes widen eagerly, "Yay!" she giggles

"Hey Judy, maybe there'll be other kids so you can play dolls with someone else." Carl teases, tickling her stomach. Her feet kick in the car seat and she squirms all around.

"But Cawl," Judith protests, "I like when you play with me! You the best at dolls." there goes that bottom lip again, man that kid knows how to work it.

I smile at him and Carl bows his head, frowning slightly.

Michonne looks back at us, she's smiling, but the smile soon drops, "Come on, let's get out. Judith, I want you to stick with your big brother, ok?"

Judith nods and Carl helps her get out of the car seat. She wraps her little fingers around his much bigger hand and he gets her out of the car. I open up the door and get out, carefully shutting the door behind me. The presence of the ache in my head is still there and hasn't risen in severity. I step up and stand next to Michonne.

"So now what?" I ask her, trying to sound as nervous as I feel. I turn around and Daryl and Beth get out of their car behind us. Once Daryl and Beth reunited after Terminus, they became inseparable, and I was right all along. Daryl loved her.

Michonne shrugs, "I think Rick's waiting to see if anyone notices." she turns towards me and half whispers.

I nod, I press the heel of my hand against my gun, nervous air sputters past my lips and then I see a man walk up.

The gates open and the man introduces himself as Douglas Monroe, he asks what our purpose is and Rick tells him he's heard of a place called the Alexandria Safe Zone, and then he asks if this is it. The man nods and Rick tells him we're here for sanctuary. The man nods, his eyes run over all of us cautiously. He asks Rick a few questions that I can't quite make out and Rick answers in the same way. I grit my teeth, slightly frustrated I don't know what's going on. I look back and over at Carl, I can't see Judith, because the car shields her, but he's looking down at her and smiling. I look back to Monroe and I see another man come up behind him. I'm surprised, I recognize this man. His immaculate, carrot colored, handlebar mustache could identify him from a mile away. It's Abraham Ford, _what the hell is he doing here?_

"Douglas?" I can hear Abraham from here, his notable, military loud voice cuts through the air.

Monroe turns around, "What is it Abraham?"

"I know these folks, they're good, you can trust 'em," he says immediately, making eye contact with Rick.

"Is that so?" Monroe turns back to Rick.

Abraham tells him, "Yes sir, we split up a while back, I had a mission to get Eugene to Washington and they wanted a place to settle down. Ain't nothin' wrong with that."

"Mhm, and you know all of them?" Monroe confirms.

Abraham nods, "I'd trust them all with my life."

Monroe looks at us one last time, "Come on in, we'll get you settled."


	2. March 31st

I lie alone in a bedroom for the first time since my dad died. I can't sleep, even though I know it's got to be past midnight. They set us up in a duplex, Daryl, Beth, and Michonne take up one half, and I share the other half with the Grimes family. Rick has his own room, Carl is sharing one with Judith, and I'm all alone. The headache hasn't gone away either, it's just stayed at its dulled state.

I probably should have asked if they had Advil or something here, because they gave us our first decent meal in weeks and plenty of water, and here my headache still stands.

I stare at the ceiling a few moments longer, I can't stand it. I pitch the covers off my body and I throw my legs over the side of the bed. I get up and walk over to the door, I quietly open it, slip through, and nearly silently shut it behind me. My bare feet make sticky sounds on the floor as I walk down the hall to where I know Carl's room is. The air is cold on my bare legs, but an oversized t-shirt hangs to the middle of my thighs.

I reach the door and turn the knob, I peek my head in and Carl's in the twin bed closest to the door. He's not even asleep. I slip inside the room, shutting the door behind me. He sits up and looks at me. He's taken to sleeping without his shirt on, I've gotten used to it, and I'm not gonna lie, I like it.

"Sam?" he squints his eyes through the darkness, "Is everything ok?" he waves his arm indicating me to come over to him. I pad over and he wraps his arm around my waist.

_God, you're gonna sound like such an idiot._

I bite my lip, "I can't sleep."

Carl runs his hand over my back, "Neither can I," he admits

"I've slept with someone else, mainly you, with me for so long I just... it was years, Carl. I haven't slept alone since the night my dad died." _I feel so goddamn pathetic. The hell is wrong with you Sam?_

"Do you wanna sleep here? Judy's out cold, she won't wake up for anything." he offers, and by the look his eyes I know he's not just looking out for me.

A small smile forms on my face, I look at the tiny bed, there's not enough room for both of us to comfortably fit there, "Could you leave her here? I have a bigger bed, it'd be less of a squeeze."

He turns and looks at his little sister curled up on the bed, her breathing is deep and even. He then looks back at me and nods, "C'mon, I'll just make sure I'm back before she gets up." He gets to his feet and takes my hand.

I smile at him, "You're such a good big brother," I kiss him on the cheek.

He smiles and shrugs, "Big brother Carl." He turns around, taking one last look at Judith.

My gut twists uncomfortably, "You know, you don't have to leave. I understand if you wanna stay with her."

He instantly shakes his head at me, "I can't sleep either, I'm useless staying here. Come on, let's just go." he gives my hand a squeeze. I nod and we head out the door, quietly shutting it behind us.

As we walk back to my room a powerful wave of nausea hits me. I slam my hand over my mouth and I dart into my room. I manage to make it to the bathroom in my room and I heave into the toilet. I vomit up everything I ate and then some.

Carl runs into the bathroom after me and he holds back my hair as my guts throw themselves up unforgivingly. I let out a groan and I just hug the toilet bowl for a moment. Carl gets up and wets a washcloth, he squeezes out the excess water and he dabs my face with the cloth. Once my stomach settles again, Carl helps me to my feet.

"You should wash out your mouth, just to try and get the taste out." he advises. I nod and I drink from the sink, not swallowing the water, only swishing it around in my mouth. I spit it out and Carl's right, my mouth doesn't feel nearly as foul.

"What was all that?" he finally asks, he's still wiping off my face with the damp cloth.

I shake my head, racking my mind for what happened or why I suddenly felt so sick, "It just came over me." I shrug

Carl's brow knits with concern, "Do you think it was something you ate?" he pushes away the hair that's trying to fall in my face.

I shrug, "I don't know, it just hit me all the sudden. I was fine when I came to see you."

Carl bites the inside of his bottom lip, "You didn't feel sick at all? No fever, headache, not even like a glimpse of nausea?"

"I have had a headache pretty much since we got here." I admit. A look of realization flashes in his eyes.

"Why didn't you say something?" his eyebrows furrow

I shrug indifferently, "It wouldn't have made a difference, it was mainly just annoying."

Carl's hand cups my cheek, he grimaces slightly, "You should have told me." He kisses my forehead, "Now come on. I know we'll have a busy day tomorrow, we should get some sleep while we can, ok?" I nod and even though I can walk just fine, Carl helps guide me back to my bed. I crawl back under the covers and scoot over so he has room.

"Are you gonna throw up all over me?" Carl asks half-jokingly. I shake my head and curl right up next to him, my head resting on his bare chest, and he wraps his arms around me. My body succumbs to the exhaustion I've been drowning in for a while now and my world fades to blackness.

I wake up to Carl shifting, the sun is just beginning to illuminate the window. He notices me being awake, "I gotta get back to Judy before she wakes up. Poor kid barely got to sleep last night, not sure what she'd do if I wasn't there when she woke up. Sorry bookworm," he hastily kisses my temple.

"See ya later, sheriff," I mumble, still half asleep. I should really be getting up. The headache is gone this morning, which is good, I'd hate to waste precious resources over a stupid headache. I let out a large exhale of air and sit up, stretching. I yawn and roll my neck, shrugging my shoulders. I blink the sleep from my eyes and get out of bed.

I remember that I'm not on the road, or camping out in some house until the zombies come knocking and realize that I can actually shower. _God, how long has it been?_

_It doesn't matter_, I remind myself, _I can now and that's all that matters_. I grab clothes out from the bottom of my backpack, I don't think I've worn these in a while. I go into the bathroom and shut the door. I set my clothes on the sink counter and I pull open the curtain to the shower/bath I turn on the water and I find there's even a toothbrush and toothpaste sitting on the sink. Damn, why didn't I notice that last night? Sure would've helped a hell of a lot more than just washing out my mouth.

I strip down and get in the shower, my body relaxes under the constant pounding of the hot water. And I make full use of what cleaning products have been provided. Soon I smell like I belong in a flower shop instead of a zombie apocalypse and I don't feel absolutely disgusting for the first time in a long while.

I wear a black t-shirt and army green cargo capris. I lace up my Docs and pull my hair up in a ponytail. I head down the hall to Carl's room to check in on him and Judith.

I open the door and I can hear Judith splashing in the bathtub.

"Carl?" I ask, looking around the room, finding him nowhere to be found. I step into the room, and stand awkwardly.

"In here, can you help me? Judith is getting a little crazy." Carl calls from the bathroom. I roll my eyes and walk into the bathroom. I stand in the doorway, looking in on the chaos in front of me.

Carl's drenched from head to toe in the clothes he must have already changed into, water is all over the floor and Judith is splashing in the remaining water wildly, giggling and smacking her hands in the water.

"Judith, you silly girl," I smile at her, "what have you done? It's not nice to get your big brother all wet like that." I walk over to the bathtub and crouch down on my knees.

"So what have you accomplished?" I look at Carl, even his hair is wet, but that may have been because he took a shower before this. I ruffle his hair and he glares for a moment.

"Besides making a total mess, absolutely nothing. She just loves being in the water. I guess she's just not used to bathing." Carl grimaces.

"Well we can fix that, besides we're here now. If this place can sustain itself we'll be here for a long time. Maybe even the rest of our lives." I smile at him, I rest a hand on his shoulder.

He lets out a sigh, "Don't start talking like that yet, we haven't been here a day." he says, there's a slight hint of chastising, "It is a nice idea though." he admits

I nod, _what was I thinking?_ I still don't trust these guys 100%. I guess the fact that the rest of our crew, minus Bob, I heard his death was tragic (isn't that just too bad), helps with that though. I mean they seem to be doing pretty well here in Alexandria, why not us too?

"Regardless, we still have to clean up this cutie pie," I turn to Judith, smiling. She giggles and splashes some more, getting water on my shirt, "Your big brother doesn't know how to give you a bath does he?" I tease Carl, while still playing with Judith.

"Nope," she shakes her head and giggles.

"Hey!" Carl protests, "Where's the loyalty? You just like making a mess, I tried!"

I look at him and raise an eyebrow, "Are you really defending yourself against a four year old?"

He ducks his head, and I laugh, nudging him with my elbow. Then I lean forward and grab some of the shampoo, I pool it in my hand, "Ready to clean up that hair, Judy? If I put the shampoo in your hair can you scrub it all in for me?"

She nods, giving me a wide toothy grin and I make sure the shampoo gets all around her head, then Judith puts her hands on her head and rubs them all around her wet head until the shampoo is nice and rubbed in.

"Ok, Judy, close your eyes nice and tight. We're gonna wash out all that soap." Carl tells her. She complies and her little eyes are tightly squinted shut.

Carl finds an empty cup and fills it with tub water and pours it on Judith's head. All the soap drips over her body as it leaves her hair. Carl does this a couple more times until we're sure it's all out.

"Is it all gone?" she asks

There's this smile on Carl's face that he just can't hide, "Yes, Judy, you can open your eyes now,"

"Okey." Judith blinks open her green eyes and smiles up at her big brother.

"Now it's time to clean your arms and your legs and everywhere else, what do we use for that?" Carl asks her. Whenever he speaks to Judith, his naturally deep, deep voice goes up an octave and he uses a special voice. I'm sorry, but it's just plain adorable.

"Soap," Judith splashes her hands in the water on each side of her.

Carl grins, "You're so smart." he dunks a bar of soap in the water then hands it to her, "Scrub, scrub, scrub. All over your arms and legs, Sam or I will get your back, ok?"

"Ok," she giggles, taking the soap with her small fingers. She rubs the soap on one arm and then the other. Then she rubs her legs. She hands the bar back to Carl and Carl gets her to turn around, he rubs the bar across her back and then her stomach. I use the cup to help wash the soap off.

"I think we're all done," I tickle Judith's stomach, she giggles and splashes us some more, "See? That wasn't so hard."

"Thanks bookworm," Carl gives a resigned sigh

I grin at him, "What would you do without me?"

He rolls his eyes.

I start to stand up, "So do you need me anymore? Should I wait for you to go to breakfast- they do have breakfast here, right?"

"We gonna eat?" Judith looks at Carl then me. Carl stands up and grabs a towel for Judith. She stands up in the tub and Carl wraps the towel around her. He picks her up.

He holds her so she's propped up against his hip and one arm holds her butt and the other hand holds her back, "Yes Judy, we're gonna eat breakfast and then you're gonna get to meet all the other kids! How cool is that?"

"Very cool! Very cool!" she squeals

Carl smiles and turns to me, "Hey can you help me get her dressed? I don't want her to run out naked or anything." Judith giggles at that.

I roll my eyes, "No problem."

Everyone still kind of takes on the role of caring for Judith, but really it's mainly Carl. Ever since we reunited with her, he's been much closer to her and he's taken on a lot more responsibility with her. I also have taken to caring for her, since I love being with Carl, and he loves being with her, I really don't mind.

I dig through a bag that's got her clothes in it, I grab a pink t-shirt and a pair of kiddie overalls. They're looking a bit ragged, but really, what doesn't look like that these days? Carl sets her down and dries her off and towel dries Judith's hair. Then he helps me get her dressed and makes sure she holds still. I tie her hair up into a high ponytail, I roll up the legs on the overalls because they're too long for her short legs and I don't want her to trip. I tell Carl I've got it under control if he wants to change clothes. He grabs a dry set and goes into the bathroom and shuts the door. Then I put on her socks and shoes.

"Are you ready?" I bend down to Judith's level, grinning excitedly, trying to put as much light on this new place as possible. I twinge of guilt seizes my stomach as I realize I'm really trying to amp up myself.

"Yes! Let's go eat!" she jumps up and down.

"Alright, we gotta wait for Carl though, ok?"

"Okay! Cawl hurry up! I wanna eat!" she calls. He opens the door a moment later with dark jeans and a gray t-shirt on. He picks up his hat and sets it on his head.

"I wanna wear the hat!" Judith stretches up towards Carl with grabbing hands.

He bends down and picks her up, resting her on his hip. She stretches up and finally grabs the brim of the hat, she pulls down on it and it falls into Carl's eyes. I crack a smile and he takes the hat off his head and sets it on hers. It immediately falls down into her eyes and she pushes it up so she can see. She has to hold it there, so it doesn't fall back and she giggles some more.

"I do believe there's a new sheriff in town," Carl tickles Judith. She lets out a playful squeal.

"Does that mean I the boss now?" she smiles wide.

Carl's expression is soft as he looks back at his little sister, "Sure thing Judy, whatever you want."

"Food." is all she says

"Well then let's get going!" I say lightly. Carl sets Judith down and she takes off the hat, handing it back to Carl. He smirks and sets it back on his head.

Judith starts jumping up and down excitedly again, then she takes one hand of Carl's and one of mine. As we walk out of the room Judith looks up at Carl, "Is Daddy gonna eat?"

Carl looks unsure, but quickly tries to mask it for Judith, "Yes, I'm sure he'll be there. Daddy has to eat, doesn't he?"

Here comes that un-ideal environment business again. There was many a time while out on the road that Rick wouldn't eat so his children could. It was hard and not a good thing for Judith to have to see and endure. No matter how we try to hide it and try to give her a sense of humanity, she still sees us going hungry and thirsty, she may not remember it well, but she's seen people die. She's seen the walkers, she knows they're a danger. Carl and I had to grow up fast, but Judy she was raised in this world, she has to grow up even faster.

We walk out of the duplex and down the street to a pavilion where they told us they'd be serving breakfast.

Carl looks over at me and nods down at Judith, without any real conversation we simultaneously decide to start swinging her. We lift her up pretty high so even with her legs extended she doesn't touch the ground.

Judith giggles, "Higher! Higher!"

We get her as high as we deem safe and by then we're at the pavilion.

"Ok Judy, time to come back down!" I tell her, we set her back down and she stands on her own two feet once more.

She jumps around, pulling at our hands, "Again, again!"

Carl smiles at her, "Maybe later."

A woman approaches us, she's got gray hair up in a bun and rectangular glasses that sit on the end of her nose, "Your daughter is so cute!" she tells me

My eyes widen, and then dart left and right awkwardly, "She's not mine." _I'm only 17, I'll have you know, and I was __**not**__ having babies at 13, thank you very much._

The woman lifts her eyebrows, "Oh?" then she looks at Carl.

"This is his little sister," I explain

Her lips tighten, "Oh. Well, I'm Erin, I hope you like it here, we're serving breakfast over there." she points to a table about 30 feet away and I can what appears to be pots of oatmeal waiting to be eaten.

Erin walks off and Carl looks at me, "I'll take her to get breakfast if you'll find us a table."

I nod, "Bring me some too, sheriff." I let go of Judith's hand and I lean up and over, kissing Carl on the cheek.

He heads one way, and I go find a table where Rick, Daryl, Beth, and Michonne are already seated. I sit beside Rick, and Michonne greets me.

"How'd you sleep?" she asks

I shrug, "Alright, I guess." I take care not to mention Carl coming to sleep with me, or the fact that I inexplicably threw up everything I'd eaten the night before.

Rick looks around, "Where's Carl and Judy?"

"They went to go pick up something to eat. She asked if you were gonna be here this morning, I'm glad you are." I tell him.

"I wasn't gonna miss out," he replies, "They've got decent meals here and we all need to eat, plus there's plenty to go around."

I nod in agreement, my stomach grumbles and I look towards the table with all the food. _Good, they're on their way back._

Rick turns addresses all of us, "We're all to report to Douglas' office right after breakfast. I think it's something about jobs around the town."

I look at Rick, "Do you think they'll give Carl and I jobs? I mean, we're 17, I think we can handle it."

Rick shrugs, "It's not up to me, but I'd imagine so, you two having jobs would just add to the man power, not to mention you've both proven more than capable of handling yourselves."

"Good, I don't want to be a burden here." I strictly explain, "I have to admit, this looks like a pretty good set up, and the people seem good enough. Maybe this time it'll work out? I mean, Abraham and them have been here who knows how long. Why not us too?"

Carl and Judith return and Judith breaks off from Carl and runs as fast as her little legs can carry her over to Rick, "Daddy! Daddy!" she squeals, Rick turns around and picks her up, setting her in his lap.

"Hey Judy, how are you?" Rick smiles genuinely at his daughter. The love shown unto Judith by her father and brother are stronger than I've ever seen before. I mean my parents loved me, but not this... strong I suppose. Then again, I guess Judith is reminder of the family the Grimes men have lost. Judith is a lucky little girl to have such a good big brother and father.

Carl sits down next to me and sets a bowl of oatmeal in front of me.

I smile at him, "Thanks," I peck him on the cheek and he takes my right hand and intertwines his fingers with mine.

After breakfast we all head down as a group, minus Beth who went to go drop Judith off with the other children, to go see Monroe for our jobs. He sat us all down individually and interviewed us, trying to find the best job for each of us.

It turns out that since Carl and I were just kids when this shit got started, that we didn't really have a specialized area of work, so we'll just be doing odd jobs for a while. Which I'm used to doing frankly and have no problem with. I'm just scared Carl will get stuck with farming again, which I know he hates.

Carl and I walk down the sidewalk to go pick up Judith after the interviews. The sun is getting lower in the sky, it'll be dinnertime soon. We walk hand in hand, people greet us, and several introduce ourselves. Many older women asked if we're married, to which we blush and politely tell them no.

"We're 17," I mutter as we walk past what must be the third woman who's asked of our marital status.

"Maybe we look older?" he suggests

"I guess," I shrug

The youngest children, ages 8 and below are taken to someone's house and put in a daycare-like environment. We knock on the door that Beth told us to go to and a woman, probably in her mid-thirties, with an infant in each arm answers the door.

"Are you Paula?" I ask, remembering the name Beth told me.

Her eyes scan over me and she's got this almost blank grimace on her face, "Yes? I assume you're here to pick up the new one?"

"My sister, Judith." Carl butts in

"Uh huh, come on in. Sorry if it's a bit loud, the kids here are a bit rowdy, especially since most just got up from a nap." she informs us. She turns around and Carl holds the door for me to go in.

She's right, it is loud. Loud enough for me to remember why I didn't hang out around the other children at Woodbury, or the prison for that matter.

"Cawl!" Judith calls, immediately recognizing her big brother. She runs towards us and hugs his legs.

"She's probably the quietest one here, although it was her first day. That's to be expected really." Paula shrugs, she's laid the babies down... somewhere, because her arms are empty now.

Carl extracts his sister from his legs and he picks her up, "And how was your day?"

"The other kids were weird," she tries to whisper to Carl, but it's loud enough for me to hear.

"Oh? Were they mean?" Carl inquires, a protective tone lingers in his voice.

She shakes her head, "No, just weird."

"Thank you," I tell Paula as we head out the door.

We walk back down the street, heading to the duplex we're staying in. It's a silent walk, and Carl's still carrying Judith when she speaks up.

"Why don't I have a mommy?" her tone is so innocent yet heartbreaking.

Carl's face loses all color and he swallows hard, staring ahead. I know what he's thinking.

"Here," I offer to Carl, I take Judith so it's one less weight bearing down on him, "Goodness girl, you're getting heavy." I carry her so she's propped against my hip. I'd almost suggest Rick explaining it to her, but I don't want to risk him breaking down in front of his daughter. I know what Lori's death did to him and to Carl.

"She died when you were really little," Carl finally says, he tries to keep his voice from cracking and to stay strong for Judith.

"Why did you want to know?" I ask Judith, trying to get her attention off of Carl.

"The other kids," she says, her head droops, "They talked about their Mommies."

Sympathy hits me in the gut hard, "Oh, I'm sorry Judy."

"Did you know Mommy?" Judith asks.

I shake my head sadly, "No sweetie, I'm sorry. I don't think you remember the prison, but it was our home before. I came there with a bunch of other people, but your mom was already gone. I heard a lot of stories about her though, she was a wonderful person."

"She was the best, Judy," Carl promises.

We hand Judith over to Rick once we get back to the duplex and ask if Carl can move his stuff into my room. Rick is reluctant at first, but some gentle persuasion managed to convince him otherwise.

Carl hasn't really unpacked much, so it's a matter of picking up his duffel bag and walking down the hall.

"Wow," I say as we walk into my room

Carl turns to me, "What is it?"

"We're sharing a room." I say, still a little in disbelief, "Not because space is tight, and we're on the road, but because we want to and we're gonna live here."

"And?" Carl shrugs, a smirk settles nicely on his face.

"It's just... nice..." I smile vaguely at him.

He kisses my forehead, "That it is. So should we unpack?"

We can, we can unpack. We're going to have lives here, and Judith will have playmates and she won't become cold, and Carl and I will share a room for the hell of it and life is going to be better than it was or it has been.

"Yeah," I smile at him happily. I pick up my bag and I set it on the bed next to Carl's. We decide that Carl takes the top two drawers of the dresser and I take the bottom two, because apparently my height means that I automatically am stuck with lower drawers.

Admittedly I don't have enough clothes to fill one drawer, let alone two, but I optimistically split up my shirts and pants. In hopes that one day, I'll accumulate more clothes.

I place my pair of white washed jeans in the bottom most drawer and I stand up. It feels like needles are gouging themselves into my skull and black spots dance in my vision. I grab the dresser to steady myself because a sense of disorientation washes over me. I finally resolve to sitting down and holding my head until the pain subsides, or at least becomes less prevalent.

"Sam?" Carl's attention flashes to me.

"It's nothing," I mumble, I squint my eyes shut and try to stop all thinking, block out all sounds, and stop feeling this pain entirely.

He crouches down next to me, "Sam."

"Stop talking," I croak out, it sounds like I'm begging.

"Sam, what is it?" his hand runs over my back.

"Get me an aspirin or something," _get_ _him to leave, yeah, that'll make it quiet._

I hate myself for causing such a scene.

The worry in his voice is palpable, "Is it another headache?"

_Why do I have to be such a goddamn drama queen?_

"Please," my voice cracks

_Stop. Hating on yourself will just make it hurt more._

Carl gets to his feet and heads out the door.

I sit there for what feels like an eternity, drowning in the sensation I can only describe as agony. It doesn't ebb this time.

I don't hear Carl come back in, I just feel him shaking my shoulder, I open my eyes and look at him, he's got a couple aspirin a cup of water. I down the water and the aspirin, but there's no immediate relief.

"Is there anything else I can-"

I cut Carl off and turn to him with my arms open, he gets the picture, I cuddle up next to him and he holds me until finally I can blink without it hurting.

"We should probably get to dinner," I tell him, "We're already late as it is."

His eyes are wide with concern, "Are you gonna be ok? Are you ok?"

"Yes, I'm fine. Let's just go, I'd hate to get to dinner late and make Rick think he should regret letting you move in."


	3. April 15th

We've settled into a nice rhythm here at the Alexandria Safe Zone, being here about half a month now. I've hung my calendar up on the wall beside my dresser, and the watch that Carl and I found a couple years ago at the Carnival grounds sits on the nightstand beside our bed. Also on the bedside table is a pile of comic books Carl has accumulated, and my pile of books that I've collected. One day I hope we'll have a bookshelf for these.

I've never been the kind of person that liked to unpack on vacation. Like what the hell people, this isn't your home. But I have here, and I've been given more clothes in addition. I've even been offered another pair of shoes, but I just can't give up my old Docs. Over the past couple of weeks I've done several jobs of a varying sort. I've cooked, I've cleaned the kitchen area afterward, I've watched the children, I've farmed, I've stood on watch duty with another guard. But today, I finally get a job I'm actually looking forward to.

Carl and I were informed last night that we were going to join a group of supply runners to clear out a strip mall about 30 miles off. I am desperate to make a good impression with this job, because out of all the things I've done so far, I want to stick with this one the most.

Headaches have taken a daily regiment here along with showers, and solid meals. Most of the time, they're manageable, and I just persevere through them. But other times, I can't think, let alone move. Those are the times I allow myself to take aspirin, or Advil or whatever. I'm worried if I take the medication too often, the doctors here will notice. And I don't want that to happen.

I roll over in bed and start to shake Carl's shoulder, "Hey, come on! Today's the day. Rise and shine sleepy head."

Carl lets out a groan and his arms lift off of me as he rolls over in protest.

"Carl, wake up. Don't make me go get Judith." I sit up. Carl's relinquished some of his duties to Beth when it comes to Judith, but we still pick her up from Paula's every day. Sometimes we play with her afterward, and when Beth has other plans, we still happily care for Judith. Today is just not one of those days.

"You wouldn't," he mumbles into the pillow. I know, and Carl knows, if I get Judith, she'll be a spunky, jumpy, relentlessness force until Carl got up.

I devilish smirk curls up the corners of my mouth, "Don't test me."

Carl turns back over to face me, he looks up, his eyelids are heavy with sleep and his bangs are in his face, "Sam."

I ruffle his hair, "You know you wanna get up."

"You know I hate when you do that," he pokes me in the gut.

I flinch up where he poked me, "But it's so much fun," I tease, he pokes me again, "I'll go get Judith." I threaten, lifting my head higher, I start to move off the bed.

He grabs my arm, "I'm up. I'm up." he sits up, rubbing his eyes.

"Good," I grin, I get out of bed and grab a change of clothes from the dresser. Today it's a gray, thin, long-sleeve shirt with blue and green plaid shorts to my knees. I braid my hair into pigtails and slide on my beanie.

When I come out of the bathroom, Carl is up and changed, he even has his sheriff hat on. I walk over to him and take his hand, "Come on, daylight's a wastin'!" pulling him to move faster, "You can't tell me you aren't excited."

"I am," Carl gives me a lazy smile, "you're just more emphatic about it, that's all. Trust me, I'm glad I'm not stuck on farmer duty _again_." he lifts his eyebrows on the word 'again' as if to emphasize it.

We go to breakfast where Rick's helping Judith with her oatmeal, Beth and Daryl are having a conversation to themselves and the look on Beth's face isn't promising. Michonne sits across from Rick, eating, keeping to herself.

Carl and I sit at our normal spots next to Rick and we quickly eat, but I can't help but look over at Rick and Judith. I nudge Carl with my elbow, he looks past me.

You can tell that Rick loves his little girl, but she's trying his patience. She keeps sticking the spoonful of oatmeal in her dad's face and declaring, "Eat!" and then he'd shake his head and turn the spoon around and tell her to eat it. Then she'd eat it and the process would start over. But she's becoming more and more persistent the longer this goes on.

"She's too precious," I turn around to Carl

He's still looking at his sister, "Yeah, she hasn't turned out that bad so far."

Out of all of us, we all agree that Judith needs this place the most. She needs a stable environment to grow up in, and it seems we've found it. She's made a couple friends at Paula's, which is a good sign.

We quickly finish up eating and head to the gate, which is where we were told to meet our crew for supply running. Sasha is already there, along with two other men with dark skin. She introduces them as Heath and Scott. Heath has black rectangular glasses, Scott is bald.

"Are we ready to go?" I look past Sasha, at a building about 20 yards away. The armory, they took up our guns and knives on the first day. Well, except for Michonne's sword, they allowed her to keep it on display in her room. They've haven't allowed us to carry our own weapons yet. I guess they don't trust us as much as they'd like us to believe. But it's all understandable.

Sasha shakes her head, "No, we're waiting for one more person. He's actually a little younger than you guys. It'll be his first run, but he should be ok."

Carl and I look at each other, unsure.

"He was out on the road not too long ago, so he knows what it's like. He can handle himself." Sasha assures us.

_Well if he can handle himself, then where the hell is he?_

I look around at the little town around us. Well really, it's only a couple streets or so. But I guess you could call it a town. It's got a church and an infirmary, of course living space, the previously mentioned armory, and there's also a meeting house somewhere, I haven't been there yet as I imagine attendance is by invitation only.

Spring is finally beginning to bloom around us, the dead and the brown is finally turning green as trees bud and flowers blossom. The weather here is much more mild than that in Georgia, I'd imagine the summers won't be as hot, seeing as the winters are much cooler. A breeze blows softly against my pigtails as I stand with my arms crossed, waiting for this kid. I give Carl an impatient look and he runs a comforting hand across my back with a look that says 'he'll be here soon, just give it time'.

We wait around for about 10 or 15 more minutes, when Sasha's attention is focused past Carl and I.

"Josh!" she calls, "Over here!"

I turn around and see a kid, probably about thirteen or fourteen walking towards us, taking his dear, sweet time.

_Ahem, if you don't mind, buddy, PICK UP THE PACE. You may not be appreciating this trip, but I certainly am. _

My lips tighten to a line and Carl gives me a pointed look. My eyes go to the ground.

"Hey," he says when he's finally close enough for us to hear, "Sorry I'm late."

_Bullshit._

Sasha waves him towards her, "It's fine really, let's head over to the armory and then we'll be ready to go." So we all walk over to the armory, it's cooler inside, than it is outside and it's almost uncomfortable.

Sasha points Carl and I over to where our weapons are being kept. There's a guard in the armory, I guess to prevent any riots, or people taking their weapons when they aren't allowed to and such. We're observed with a close eye as I take my knife and Glock. I fasten the sheath of the knife around my waist, and then on the opposite side sits the holster for my gun with another strap that clicks around my waist. I holster both weapons and Carl clips the holster for his Beretta around his thigh. Once we're ready, we head back over to Sasha and they've all got their weapons. For reasons I'll never understand they gave that kid, Josh, a semi-automatic rifle. _Wouldn't a nice handgun do the trick?_

We follow Sasha out to a van that we're taking out to the strip mall. We all pile in. Heath drives, Sasha sits shotgun, I sit in the middle next to Scott, and Carl sits in the back next to Josh.

Josh keeps trying to strike up conversation with Carl, and Carl is just not having it. I keep turning around in my seat to look at him and he is either looking out the window or giving me a look that says 'help me.' and when I laugh, he gives me a different look, 'This is the last time I'm going to be a gentleman for you.'

I reach my hand back behind the seat and search blindly for his hand. When I find it, I give it a squeeze and a grateful look. He leans his head up against my seat and I lean back. I stare at the roof of the van for the remainder of the trip.

We finally arrive at the strip mall and quickly get out. I stand beside Carl, waiting for Sasha to give her instructions to us. She hands us each a decent size bag to collect our haul. There's 6 old businesses at this strip mall, one for each of us. There's a gun store, an electronics shop, a hair salon, a clothing store, a laundromat, and a small restaurant. Heath is assigned to the gun store, Josh gets the electronics shop, Sasha takes the laundromat, Carl is given the restaurant, and I get the clothing store. Our orders are to grab anything we can use. Anything, well minus spoiled food and pointless electronics, no one has a use for a DVD player, or a cell phone anymore.

We do have electricity at the safe zone, but it only runs in half the houses, luckily we live in a duplex with hot water and power. But the power is for the lights, we are told not to waste it on frivolous things, which I've long since adjusted to. Though, what I wouldn't give to listen to some Paramore or Foo Fighters again.

"Scream if you run into trouble." is our order too. I can't believe their letting this kid just clear out a building on his own. I mean, Carl and I were doing runs when we were fourteen, but we weren't clearing out entire buildings alone. _Does this kid have parents? Jeez. _

_Stop Sam, focus on your own job instead of being a judgmental asshole._

I slam my fist against the glass windows of the shopping center, and a walker smacks itself against one of the windows, ruining a perfectly good window display._ What a pity. _

I pull out my Glock and throw the door open. I scan the area to make sure it's just the one. When more don't immediately pop up, I put my gun away and pull out my knife. No reason in making noise and wasting ammo.

The walker turns to me with its foggy eyes, clumped, messy hair, and gaunt gray cheeks. It starts to move towards me, but I don't let it get close. I kick it in the knee, it falls to the ground and I stab my knife in through the eye, it stops moving and I look up. _One down, who knows how many more to go._

My ears perk up nervously when I hear gunshots going off a couple buildings away. The noise is muffled by walls and closed doors, but it's still there. I decide I'm not worried since it wasn't in Carl's direction, plus no one screamed. Probably that stupid ass kid shooting off his gun, spooked more likely than not. The shots stop and I continue my process.

I pull my Glock back out and sheathe my knife, you can never be too careful. I make sure I'm scanning the building thoroughly, looking around each shelf and then checking in the back. I find two more, and knife them separately, they're not worth the bullets.

Once I'm sure the building is clear I get to work. It's mainly a women's clothing store, but I pick up what I can. I find some new clothes for Judith and even a couple flannel shirts for Carl. I stuff my bag with clothes until it literally won't hold any more. I check around the checkout desk if maybe someone kept some snacks or something. Maybe a pad of paper and some pens or something. It may not be vital for Judith's survival, but I'd sure like to teach her how to write someday. Give her something from the old world. I'm pleased when I find a roll of paper that was probably used for receipts and a couple sharpies. Maybe she can draw with them for now. As long as she doesn't do anything like stick the open sharpies up her nose. Then we might have a problem.

I take my haul back to the van, so that perhaps I can collect even more. Lord knows there's plenty in that store.

I set my bag down in the back of the van when I hear the scream. Instantly I pull out my gun and start running to where I heard the scream emanate from.

It's the goddamn electronics store.

_Of course._

_Son of a bitch._

Everyone is running there too, Heath is the first one there, he throws open the door, and I catch Carl running this way from the corner of my eye. We run in there and Josh is firing the semi-automatic like mad. My ears are ringing with the sounds of gunfire at such close proximity. The walkers are everywhere. Somehow the kid managed to scramble up onto an elevated display. He's wide eyed and scared, still firing that damn gun. But the thing is, he isn't hitting shit. Granted they are everywhere, he was entirely within his rights to scream, there's probably 30 or so of the monsters trying to get at him. They're so preoccupied with Josh, they haven't even noticed the five of us standing just inside the door. Carl runs around so he can get them from the back and possibly draw some away from Josh, I follow and immediately starting aiming and hitting my target, never using more than two bullets per walker. We stop once or twice to reload. Sasha, Heath, and Scott are firing too. It doesn't seem as though Josh has recognized us being present because the kid is _still_ screaming and _still_ firing the gun willy-nilly.

They say time slows down when you're in tense situations, but just then, time moved way too fast. It flew right by me and there was nothing I could do.

One minute Carl's standing there, headshotting walkers left and right. Next thing I know, Josh has finally hit his first target.

"Sam," comes out of his mouth so faintly, I wonder if I imagined it. The bullet ripped across his face and tore out part of his hat.

He falls to the ground and I drop my gun. To hell with the world right now.

I'm on my knees right beside him. He's trying to not pass out and he's bleeding. Oh dear God is he bleeding.

Panic, hysteria, dread, and dismay all flood into my head at once. I'm scared to death, I want to start crying, but I can't let it show. I have to be strong, give Carl some of my strength.

_I'm not going to let him die. I'll be damned if he dies because some fucking dumbass, dipshit, kid misfired and shot my boyfriend. Like hell I'll let him die._

"You fucking shot him!" I scream out at the bastard. The last walker clatters to the ground, and Sasha and Heath are running over to us. I rip one of the sleeves off of my shirt, I wrap it around his head in dire efforts to help stop some of the bleeding. But it won't be enough. Not for long at least.

"We have to get him back now." Sasha says, her eyes locked on Carl. I glare at her, she let this moron come on this trip, and now look what happened.

Carl lets out a moan, and his head turns towards me.

"You're going to be alright." I tell him bluntly. Never before have I put such confidence behind my words. _With assurance as strong as this, it has to be true, right?_

"Let's get him out of here. Now." Heath helps me get Carl to his feet. He can't walk, so Heath screws it and carries Carl. It can't be easy, carrying a full grown boy like Carl. We get him to the van and we strap him in one of the middle seats. Sasha offers to sit in the back with Josh so I can sit next to Carl, while Scott and Heath sit up front. If I was forced to stay back there, I'd probably kill the brat. I'm so high-strung at the moment.

He's already bled through my shirt sleeve.

"I sure hope someone found bandages," I snap.

"I did," Scott informs me, "Heath, look through that bag by your feet, there should be a roll of gauze." Heath quickly finds it and hands me it. Even though we're tearing down the road like there's no tomorrow, and it's extremely dangerous, I unbuckle my seat belt and get in the middle space next to Carl. Ultimate badass move, I know. It may be the zombie apocalypse, but hey, better safe than sorry.

Until now.

"Carl, sweetie," I've never called him sweetie before, but I can't help it now. I force my voice to be strong, but gentle as I speak to him, "I'm gonna try and wrap your head up, ok?" I'm so close to breaking right now, it wouldn't even take effort. In fact, if I stopped trying to be strong now I'd be bawling.

He's somehow still semi-conscious, and he turns his head towards me. Oh God, I want him to pass out so the pain isn't as brutal. I want him to escape for a moment. I untie my shirt sleeve and I start wrapping his head in gauze.

I try to do this action as calmly as I can manage, I have to stiffen my arms so they don't shake as I try and wrap up his head. No, this gauze won't be enough, he'll bleed right through that.

"Sasha," I bark, "Look in that bag in the back, and hand me something I can use to help soak up this blood."

She digs around in the back and tosses me a t-shirt. I undo the gauze and I fold up the shirt so it's thicker as it presses against the wound. I rewrap the gauze and he slumps in his chair. He's finally gone unconscious. I study at his chest intently for a moment. Yes, only unconscious.

Once I've done all I can do, I get back in my seat and buckle my seat belt. We're literally flying past these trees, _we'll be back at the safe zone in no time. They have doctors there. They can save him. They will save him. _

_What am I gonna tell Rick. _

_What am I gonna tell Judith?_

How do I tell a four year old child that her big brother has been shot and lost an eye in the process.

_He lost an eye._

It finally registers in my mind that Carl lost an eye. Never again will it be those bright blue eyes that bore into my every being and make my heart do a thousand tricks at once. Just one, just one bright blue. That shithead behind me dimmed the other one.

_I'm going to kill him._

_Sam, no. You can't._

_I swear to God I'm going to kill him._

_Sam, they'll kick you out for sure. And you'll be forced to leave Carl, even if he lives._

_When. Even __**when **__he lives. He will. He will live, he has to._

As we pull up to the safe zone, Scott unrolls the windows and he starts screaming at them to open the gates. We don't even stop, Scott drives right up to the infirmary and people- doctors I assume- come running out.

Scott quickly explains what happened and two people run in to grab a stretcher. Three more come over to Carl's side of the van and they look over him.

"Is he going to live?" I demand. _He has to. He will. Goddammit he has to._

After a moment, a woman with blonde hair pulled back reassures me that he _should_ live. I don't like that word, should. He either is or he isn't. And the answer better goddamn be 'is'.

The stretcher arrives a moment later and they lay Carl on the stretcher, I hop out. Like hell I'm leaving his side. They get him inside.

"We're going to have to stitch him up," the blonde woman informs me, "It needs to be as sterile an environment as we can get. I know you won't like it, but we can't allow you to be there."

I look at her with cold eyes, "He better live."

"We will do our best," she promises.

The last thing I want to do is leave Carl. But I understand this is for the best, I need to go tell Rick what's going on anyhow.

"I'll be back. I have to go tell his dad." I tell her, "I better be able to see him when I get back." I tell her with gritted teeth.

"You probably will," she uses a calming tone, but at the moment there is no calm. There's life and death. There's panic and fear. And there's dread and distress. That is all. I am just an object running on four emotions and none of them are good.

When Monroe found out Rick was a police officer before the world went to shit, he decided that he should be a constable, someone who maintains the peace. Which isn't too difficult as far as I can tell. The people here are pretty peaceful, this town is pretty peaceful.

Until today.

I run screaming down the streets to where Rick works, I'm screaming his name and running as fast as I can. People come out from their workplaces and stand up from taking care of the crops and stare at me, wild hooligan, screaming in the streets, for the constable. They know something is up, I can feel all their eyes on me, wondering what event could spark such a ruckus.

Rick emerges from a building and I nearly run smack into him. He holds me back by my shoulders and I start huffing and puffing, trying to catch my breath.

"What is it Sam?" demands Rick, "Where's Carl?"

I'm still trying to catch my breath, and now that I'm here I'm scared to answer.

"Sam. Where's Carl."

"Shot," I exhale finally.

"What," Rick's face twists into an entirely different emotion.

"He was shot," my voice finally cracks

"Is he alive?" Rick lowers his voice, he's bending down some so he can look me in the eyes.

I swallow hard, "For now."

Here comes the waterfall of emotions again, I can't stop it anymore and I hug Rick as I let out a sob.

"I'm sorry," I choke out, "Goddamn, I didn't even see it coming, it just happened. There was nothing I could do to stop. That dumbass prick..." I trail off.

"Hey, hey, hey." Rick hugs me back, "Calm down, it's ok. It's gonna be ok. Please just tell me what happened."

I pull back from Rick, and I somehow have managed to hold back actual tears, for now, "We were clearing out this strip mall. And one of our people- this kid, only thirteen or fourteen got caught up in a real messy deal. There were about 35-40 walkers there, all surrounding him. The kid had a goddamn semi-automatic and he couldn't shoot worth shit. We all ran to help him, Carl and I were shooting down walkers, one shot misfired and it hit Carl. He lost an eye, and I tried to stop the bleeding as best I could for the ride home. They're stitching him up in the infirmary now. I did everything that I could, Rick," I shake my head, the hysteria is rising rapidly, "I just wish it was me instead of him."

"Come on," he says firmly, "Let's go. I gotta get to my boy." he sounds he's about to lose it too. We run back over to the infirmary and we find a nurse standing outside the room they took him into.

"How is he?" Rick's raspy tone is unsafely low.

"He's lost a lot of blood, they always do with a head wound like that." she explains carefully

"Take it from me," Rick demands.

The nurse gives Rick a confused look, "Excuse me?"

Rick doesn't have the patience for this, but he tries anyway, "We have the same blood type, take it from me. Do the transfusion with me."

The nurse nods and she escorts Rick to another room to draw blood.

"I'm going in there!" I shout at the nurse as she walks off. When I hear no protest, I slowly open the door. There's another nurse at his side. They've got him patched up for real, and have him hooked up to several different things.

I'm glad the infirmary is on the side of town with power.

I look at him, and all I want to do is cry. There's my Carl, the one who always helps me, and now I've got to help him. He looks so helpless.

"Has he woken up yet?" my tone is still fragile.

"No, he'll probably be out for a while. But he's going to be ok. I can tell you that. As long as we keep the wound clean and fight off infection, he will be ok." the nurse tells me.

_Ok? He's going to be visually impaired for the rest of his life._

_But he'll be alive, and that's what matters most._

"Thank you," I close my eyes and press my palms to my face. I take a moment to compose myself as relief sweeps through me.

I look up, removing my hands and I walk over to the bed beside Carl. I pull up a chair and sit right next to him. I grab his hand, which lies lamely by his side and I hold it between mine.

Rick comes in after a while, bandage over the crook in his arm. He walks in slowly, eyes wide as he looks at his son. The nurse looks at the two of us and decides to let us have some space with Carl, she walks out and shuts the door behind her.

"My boy," he mutters, "my son. That's my son." he sounds so frightened and broken, it's scary to see Rick this way.

"He's gonna be ok," I turn to Rick, "They say he's gonna be ok."

His steps are slow to make their way to Carl's bedside, "He was shot five years ago in the chest. I hoped I'd never have to see him like this again." Rick bows his head.

"Rick," I say, studying the carpet floor.

"Yes?" I can feel his eyes on me.

"I'm sorry I couldn't protect him better." I still can't look up

Rick keeps a steady tone, "You did what you could. You did all any of us could do, there's no reason to feel shame for that."

Carl lets out a moan and both of our attention flashes to the boy.

"Carl?" I make my tone stronger than I feel

"Carl," Rick speaks up

His eyes blink open, and he obviously very weak.

"Dad?" he sounds too frightened. Rick moves so Carl can see him without moving.

"I'm right here, Carl," Rick's eyes are deeply set upon his ailing son.

"How did I get here?" he asks

Rick's the talking one, which is good, it take so much strength to muster up one sentence, "Sam and the others helped get you back here. The doctors stitched you up, you're gonna be fine, Carl."

"Sam?" he starts to move his head, "Where is she?"

I stand up and squeeze his hand, "I'm right here. I told you everything was gonna be ok."

He nods, he's already starting to fade again, "Sam?"

"Yes Carl?" I answer immediately

"You're gonna get Judy today right? I don't know if I'll be up in time," I can't tell if he's joking or not.

"Of course I will. You aren't getting up any time soon, you've got some major healing to do, mister." I speak strictly. No matter how many times they say it, or I say it, I'm still scared I'm gonna lose him.

"Will you make sure you play with her and all that? I don't want her to be upset while I'm not there," he asks

I nod and nod, "Of course, she won't even know you're gone she'll be having such a good time." I promise. I'm starting to tear up. But I can't cry, he can't know how afraid I really am. He's never seen me cry before, now is not the time.

"Good," he shuts his eye and his breaths are getting deeper.

"Carl, I love you. I love you so, so much." I'm starting to get a little frantic

"I love you too bookworm," and he's gone again. I shut my eyes hard, _they said he's gonna be ok. Stop stressing._

"You go get Judy, I'll stay here and watch over him," Rick tells me, "but you can't bring her here. No matter what, ok? I don't want her to see him just yet."

I nod in understanding, "Of course not, I'll keep her entertained until it's time for her to go to bed, and then I'll be back. It'll be distracting for the both of us. Tell me if anything happens." I reluctantly release Carl's hand, I take one last look at him and I turn around, trying to stay composed.

I walk out of the room, shutting the door quietly behind me. My footsteps are careful and quiet as I exit the infirmary. I don't look up, just at the ground in front of me. My eyes glance up for a moment as I get back out onto the street. I make a left turn and head for Paula's, my eyes skirt the ground until I'm nearly in front of Paula's house.

_There, you gave yourself some time for weakness, now you have to show Judith strength, let your strength help power her._

_How am I going to tell her this?_

That one thought ravages my mind as I knock on the door. Paula answers after a bit, "Where's your boyfriend?" she asks, her eyes moving to the empty space beside me.

I force a smile, "Just me today, now where is she?" I look past Paula

Paula narrows her eyes, unsure, but she lets it pass and motions me to enter. Judith is playing with some blocks with a little boy who's probably a couple years older than her. But the two appear to be getting along just fine.

"Hey Judy!" I call, my tone is even sweeter than it normally is.

Her head snaps up, and her green eyes are locked on me. She up on her feet in an instant and runs over to me, hugging my legs, "Sam!" she looks up at me and smiles sweetly. She doesn't know. She doesn't even know.

"How was your day?" I smile at her, I reach down and I pick her up. That's what Carl would normally do.

"Very good!" she beams, "I made a new friend!" she points to the kid she left with blocks, "His name is Mikey."

I continue my act of overenthusiastic zeal, "That's awesome Judy!" I turn to the kid on the ground, "Hi Mikey, I'm Sam."

He looks up from his blocks and waves at me, obviously more focused on his blocks. He turns back to his blocks and I figure it's about time we go.

"As always, thank you," I tell Paula as we exit.

She fakes a smile at me, still obviously suspicious, "No problem, the kid's a doll."

We walk out and get back on the street.

"Do you want to walk or do you want me to carry you?" I offer Judith.

_Please say walk. Please say walk._ I'm not nearly as strong as Carl, and Judith's getting really heavy.

"I'm a big girl. I wanna walk." Judith informs me.

"Alrighty then," I comply, setting Judith down, but I make sure I'm still holding onto her hand, "Big girl it is."

We're headed back towards the duplex when she speaks up, "Where's Carl?"

_Here it is. It's do or die time. Just take a deep breath and be brave._

I make myself keep walking, even though all I want to do is stop. She can't know how serious all of this is, "When we went out today, Carl... had an accident. He got hurt and now he's resting."

"He got a boo boo?" she looks up innocently at me.

_A big boo boo._

I nod, "Yes sweetie, he's going to need to rest for a very long time. So he can't play with you today, but I can. We can do whatever you want." I force a smile towards her.

She thinks about this for a moment, "Can I see him? I wanna see Carl."

A lump forms in my throat and I shake my head, "No Judy, I'm sorry. Not today, but maybe soon." _One can only hope._

"He gonna be ok, right? Carl's not gonna die?" the gravity of the question and the words she speaks throw me for a loop.

God, this kid is smarter than we give her credit for. We try to make it better for her, but she can see things that I certainly wouldn't have when I was that little.

"He's not going to die, Judy. He's going to be ok," I falsely promise. I know what they say, but this is the apocalypse. Anything that can go wrong, will go wrong. And I can't help but be utterly terrified, "Your big brother is strong. He can do anything." I smile at her, but the smile hurts me. It rips me apart inside.

"I know." she smiles sweetly at me._ You're a good kid, Judith._

We get back to the duplex and much to my dismay, Judith wants to play dolls. _My worst enemy. _

So we sit on the floor of her room and she walks over to her dresser and she pulls hard to open the lowest dresser drawer and she pulls out all her dolls. She has four of them. A mermaid Barbie, a normal Barbie, a Cabbage Patch Kid, and an actual baby doll.

She hands me mermaid Barbie, "Look! She turn into a princess when you pull her tail, it's a skirt!" Judith sits up on her knees and stretches over to show me how to undo the velcro and turn mermaid Barbie into Princess Barbie. I look at her in astonishment, pretending that I just saw the coolest trick in the world. Judith explains to me her little doll world and how I get to play the princess who rules over the whole kingdom (the other three dolls) and she starts rambling off things that I admittedly start to tune out. I just smile and nod and pretend to look intent as she explains everything. _Good lord, this kid has an imagination. _

It was a group decision a couple years ago, that upon giving Judith dolls, we were also going to tell her about fairy tales and princesses and princes and kingdoms and all that jazz. So that she wouldn't grow up playing dolls where the princess was bitten by the walker and then all the friends of the princess would have to kill her. That was not the kind of imagination we were going to endorse. So I collected as many children's books as I could find so that I could tell Judith the stories. Beth helped too, and sometimes we'd make up our own stories. Judith just ate them up, loved every one of them.

I do what she wants me to do as we play with the dolls until I look up at the clock and notice it's time to go eat dinner.

"Hey Judy, are you getting hungry?" I ask kindly

She motions to my doll, "Princess Pink." and I realize she wants my doll to ask her doll.

"Princess Pink would like to formally invite Princess Judith to go eat dinner." I play along

"Ok!" Judith beams and then sets her Barbie down. We walk to dinner and tonight it's peas and carrots with canned ham. I carry Judith's plate for her and I go to our normal table. Michonne, Daryl, and Beth are there.

"Where's Daddy?" Judith asks when we sit down. Three more pairs of eyes go to me. _Shit, they don't know. I guess word really doesn't get around in this place._

I force another smile, but this isn't a big one, it's more of a reassuring smile, "He's with Carl."

"Oh," she looks at her plate in front of her.

The looks from all three intensify, Daryl's eyes are narrowed with suspicion, Michonne tries to remain stoic, but her eyes give away her true emotion, Beth's lips are drawn to a tight line and she looks pretty nervous. While Judith still isn't looking I mouth 'infirmary'. Upon recollection, that only made it worse.

We all sit quietly, their nerves make the air tense and I know I can't say a thing without exposing it all to Judy.

"Daryl and I are getting married," Beth announces, trying to change the mood.

"That's fantastic!" more of this forced happiness, if this was the old world, I should've pursued a career in acting.

Daryl smirks at Beth, and his eyes are a kind of softness that is not often seen from Daryl. I knew this was going to happen sometime, I guess they were just waiting for when they were more settled and could have an actual ceremony. I just wish Maggie could've been here to see it. Since we lost both her and Glenn around the time Terminus happened, Beth never saw her sister after the prison we reunited with her after we lost them.

The rest of dinner is a particularly quiet event, though Judith speaks up sometimes and even though the others don't know what happened, they do their best to keep Judith happy. After dinner Beth mouths to me that her and Daryl are headed to the infirmary, Michonne offers to help me with Judith and I give her a look that says 'I've got this, you should really go with them.'

I take Judith back to the duplex and I offer to read her a story. She's extremely agreeable to this, and I tell her that she has to take her bath first. She splashes around a lot, soaking my clothes, but eventually she's all cleaned up and I get her into her nightgown. She pulls herself onto the bed, which takes a bit of effort, but when I offer to help her, she refuses saying she's got this. Once she gets up on the bed, she crawls under the covers and then sits up eagerly, doll in hand, eyes wide open, ready for a story.

When we officially moved in here, I moved all the children's books I'd collected for Judith into her room, they sit stacked up on top of the dresser. I grab the one on top and I sit beside Judith on the bed, she leans her small head against my arm and looks at the book as I read it.

Today it's not a fairy tale, or anything about princesses, I'm reading her _Go, Dog, Go_. She's starting to read, and it'd be a lie to say I'm not the main help in that aspect. She points out certain words she recognizes and says them out loud, then looks to me for praise. I smile at her and then carry on with the story.

About half way through the book, her head slumps against my arm, she's out cold. _Just like her brother_. I finish the book and tuck her in, making sure she's comfortable. When I'm sure it's all clear, I quietly leave and shut the door behind me.

I leave the duplex, and it's dark outside, street lamps lit with fire line the street, giving me something to help guide me back to the infirmary.

When I arrive, Beth, Daryl, and Michonne are out in the hallway. Michonne and Beth are seated and Daryl stands, back pressed against the wall, arm on Beth's chair.

"How is he?" I ask, I bite my tongue, preparing for the worst.

Beth stands up and gives me a hug, "I'm so sorry."

_Oh God, what happened_. I push her back after a moment, "How is he?" my tone is firmer

"They've done a blood transfusion, and he's woken up since then. He's been asking for you, but he might be back out now. I'm so sorry about what happened." Beth explains with a sad look, she's got the comforting, gentle tone from her father, and it's good in times like these.

"Rick hasn't left his side once, you should go in there." Michonne tells me.

I open the door slowly, nervously.

He's still lying down, and he looks like he's unconscious. Rick's sitting in the chair I was earlier, running his hand over his beard. He turns his head to me and nods in acknowledgment.

"Judith's asleep, but why don't you head back to the house, just in case. She's been asking about you." I tell Rick.

Rick nods, pressing his lips together, "Just so you know, they've got him on a lot of medicine, even if he comes to, he may not make much sense." he casts a final look at his son. He stands and pats me on the back.

I move the chair to Carl's good side, or the one he can see out of, and then I sit down. I rest my elbows on my knees and I fold my hands and rest my forehead against them, almost like I'm praying. Maybe I fall asleep, maybe I don't, but I open my eyes when I hear shifting. My head shoots up, and Carl's turned on his side and looking at me.

"Hey," my lips part and the corners of my mouth turn up just enough to be classified as a smile. I reach my hand out and push the hair from his face. As I start to pull my hand away, Carl snatches it and holds it with his own.

"Hey," his eyelid is heavy and I can tell what Rick meant about the drugs.

"I took care of Judith this afternoon," I tell him.

He becomes instantly more focused, "What... what did you tell her?"

"That you were hurt and had to rest for a while. I didn't tell her anything gory, or detailed. Just the basics." I pause for a moment, considering my options, "She wanted to go see you, but I couldn't let her do that. Not so soon."

"Right," he nods, mumbling. Just like that, he's dazed and unfocused again. I keep looking at him, waiting to see if he'll do anything else.

"Does it hurt?" my voice comes out unnaturally quiet, it really is a dumb question.

He shrugs, "I didn't feel it at first, the pain came when I was just lying there, and then it got worse and worse. Then I woke up, and I haven't felt much since."

I nod along, not really understanding, because how can I really understand what he's going through?

"Sam," he breaks free of his trance somewhat, "Since we're here now, and there's more people. I've been thinking."

_What the hell is he going on about?_

"I figure, since_ this_ happened, and there's more people our age, if maybe you wanted to find someone better? Since there's more options now. I wouldn't mind really, I wouldn't. I just want you to be happy." he looks nervously at me.

_This must be the meds talking, God, they must have him really drugged up._

"Don't be ridiculous. Carl, I'm not gonna leave you because you lost an eye." I try to be rational to him, "I didn't fall for you because you have pants and a pulse. I fell in love with you, because you're you. And I like that, I like you as a person and just because you got shot doesn't mean I'm gonna back out. Dear God, how vain would that be?" I shake my head at them, "I love you, sheriff." my tone softens. I can't say it enough, I'll never be able to say it enough.


	4. April 16th

I head back to the duplex late that night. Or rather Rick makes me come back. Carl had passed out long ago, but I still sat there, not wanting to move. Scared of what would happen when I wasn't there.

I was nodding off when Rick shook my shoulder. "C'mon, you need to get some rest. He'll be fine," Rick insisted. I groggily stand up and take a final look at Carl. I lean down and press my lips on Carl's forehead, pushing the hair from his eye. Rick guides me back to the duplex and I ask if it's alright if I sleep in Judith's room. My excuse is to keep her company and make sure she's all right, but really she's as close as I'll get to not sleeping alone. Rick says that'd be great and we split ways as I head to my room so I can shower before bed and Rick heads back to the infirmary. I'm glad someone will be watching over Carl.

I grab some pajamas, which is really just long pajama pants and a t-shirt. I turn on the shower water, giving it some time to warm up while I brush my teeth. After I'm done, I step into the shower and begin rinsing off. I really do like showers, in a strange way, they remind me of the old world. The warm spray of shower water is a reminder that I'm finally alone. Well and truly alone. No one to see me, no one to judge me. No one I can hurt.

I lose it.

Tears start streaming down my cheeks. All the emotions that I'd - for the most part- contained all day, now flood out. It's probably dumb and pointless to cry. _They said he'd be alright. They said he would! _Over and over, but it still lingers in my mind. _This is the apocalypse. Everything that can go wrong will go wrong. It's just what we've learned to accept. People die. That's part of it too. He could die. Something could go wrong, his stitches could get infected and die. What if the bullet took out a chunk of his brain? What would he lose? Has he already lost it?_

_Calm down_. I command myself. _You have to believe._

So I take in a few deep breaths and try and relax some. Tears continue to drip from my cheeks. But there's less of them, and soon it becomes hard to tell what's tears and what's shower water dripping down my face.

I'm in the middle of rinsing the shampoo out of my hair when it hits me hard. A headache. Goddamn, it's a doozy too. Needles push into my skull and at the same time it feels like my brain is expanding. Pushing the limits of my skull. I cower on the shower floor, my eyes tightly squinted shut, the constant spray of water patters against my back and my head. The normally comforting pulse makes the headache worse. My chest heaves, trying to take in more air. I force my eyes open just long enough to turn off the water. The violent pang in my head refuses to budge and my head is clasped tightly between my hands. My fingers twist into my dripping hair, I pull at my hair, trying to distract myself from the pain. No. That only makes it worse.

I need Advil or aspirin, or something. Some kind of pain reliever. I don't have any here, or in the bathroom at least. _Where? Where would it be?_

_How am I supposed to get out of here? I can't just lie on the shower floor forever. _

_I could scream for help._

_What good would that do? Rick's probably halfway back to the infirmary by now. And I don't even know if Beth, Daryl, or Michonne could hear me through these walls. Judith would be of no help. At best I'd traumatize the poor child. _

The thinking physically hurts me. It makes the headache worse.

But I can't get up, so I settle to shut my mind down and lie in the fetal position on my side until enough pain subsides to move.

Several times I try and at least sit up, but thick waves of nausea consume me, so I stay lying down, a meek effort to keep my dinner down.

Time ticks by at a snail's pace, but probably halfway to sun rise, the pain ebbs enough for me to throw on my pajamas and walk to Judith's room, crawl under the covers waiting for my body to be condemned to sleep.

"Sam! Sam!" Judith squeals in my ear sometime later. I'm instantly stirred from sleep, Judith's standing by my bed, past her sunlight streams in through a window. I blink my eyes rapidly, trying to adjust to the light. My headache is mostly gone, in any case, it's a vast improvement from last night. I let out a yawn and prop my head against my palm.  
"Hey kiddo, how are you this morning?" I force a smile, trying to get back into a kid friendly mood.

"Good!" she beams excitedly, "Can we see Cawl today?"

It hits me hard again, everything that happened yesterday. I put on a brave face, acting like her words didn't send me reeling down a dark road of anguish, "I don't know yet Judy, we'll just have to see." I doubt it'll be today. I also doubt it'll be tomorrow.

"Can we play today?" her big green eyes look up at me with hope.

I give her a sad look, "I have to go do a job to do. And you have friends to play with, remember?" I smile and poke her in the stomach, "But once I'm done, we can definitely play. We can play all you want." I promise.

"Okey!" she beams happily up at me. I sit up and push myself off the bed.

"Time to get you dressed big girl," I take her little hand and we walk over to her dresser. I find a little cotton dress that's baby blue with clouds on it. I help her get dressed, including her little shoes, and brush out her hair. Then we go over to my room, so I can get dressed. I help her sit on my bed and tell her to stay put, I hand her a comic book and tell her to be very careful with it. I stress the very. The last thing I need to explain to Carl is I gave his little sister one of his prized comic books and she annihilated it.

I quickly grab some clothes and change as fast as humanly possible. I put on my white washed jeans and my old dark green t-shirt. I tie my hair back into a ponytail and then I figure I'm ready to go. I emerge from the bathroom and Judith is surprisingly sitting very calmly, flipping the pages of the comic book, looking at all the pictures.

"Judith!" I praise her, "You're acting like such a big girl. Thank you for being so good while I got ready."

She grins happily at me, looking up from her 'reading'.

"Let's go eat!" she puts down the comic book and pushes herself off the bed, she walks over to me, taking my hand and we walk to breakfast.

Rick's not there again, which is unfortunately expected. It means he's either sleeping, or with Carl. I would much prefer the latter frankly. So Judith and I get our usual oatmeal and I make sure she eats it all, all while not getting a lot of it all over dress. I achieve a success for the most part, with only one drip of oatmeal landing in her lap. After breakfast, I drop Judith off at Paula's. My heart wants to go to the infirmary to at least check on Carl, but my head knows I have to report for kitchen cleaning duty.

I grit my teeth and force myself to walk back to the pavilion. As much as I'd like it, they won't let me take a day of to be with Carl, everyone has a job to do. The world doesn't stop turning when one person gets shot. So I'll just have to suck it up and see him whenever I get off.

Whenever I reached the pavilion, everyone except for the clean-up crew has cleared the pavilion and gone off to do whatever job they occupy themselves with during the day. I help carry the large pots back to the cooking house. Really, it's Olivia's house. She's a red-headed woman that's probably 35 or so, she's fortunate enough to have more than enough meat on her bones, and I guess her good cooking shows. She's the main cook around here, and truly very kind and cheerful. She must have not spent a lot of time out in the real world. Probably jumped from sanctuary to sanctuary until she found this place. At least, that's my guess. Although I grew out of my shyness around my group, I still tend to keep on the quieter side around the Alexandria residents. I don't know too much about these people.

Most of the rest of the clean-up crew are also cooks and help out Olivia. After all, making oatmeal for 60 is not a one-woman job. Once we bring everything back from the pavilion, the dirty work begins. I help wash dishes with a girl named Annie. She's probably about my age. She talks a lot, probably what girls my age are supposed to do. I tend to just nod, trying to get my job done. Sometimes, she asks me questions, and I answer them in as few words as possible, or if fitting, I nod or shake my head. I don't mean to be anti-social, I'm just not comfortable with these people. Not to mention I've still got an ever-present headache, which she only seems to amplify. Talking would only make that worse. But it's ok, Annie makes up for my lack of talking. She just goes on and on about whatever news or gossip or personal back story she can think of.

"Weren't you in that group that went on the run yesterday?" she changes the subject from her dead ex-boyfriend.

"Yeah," I scrub a bowl

I hand Annie the bowl so she can dry it, she takes it from me and continues, "So you know the kid that got shot right?"

My throat tightens and I nod, I increase the pressure on the plate I'm washing. _Keep it together, keep it together._

"He came with your group, what was his name again? Earl? Charles? Jarl?"

"Carl! It's Carl!" I snap, losing hold on my temper. How the hell would she confuse the name Carl like that?

Annie looks at me wide eyed, she then quickly turns around like nothing happened, "Right, Carl. Didn't he get shot in the face?"

_Can't you just shut your damn mouth?_

My actions are stiff as I pass her the plate, "Yes."

Annie continues to be oblivious or otherwise blind to my discomfort, "I think he's gonna die. I mean he _did_ get shot in the face, what do you think?"

I throw my sponge into the sink, fed up, I turn to her, "I think you should shut the hell up. That's my boyfriend you're talking about." _bitch_, I silently add. I think that's the most I've ever said to Annie in one answer.

"Oh," is all she says, before awkwardly coughing and going back to work.

The rest of our work is silent, and the good thing about this job is that after all the clean-up for breakfast is done, I'm free for the rest of the day.

After Olivia releases me, I walk straight to the infirmary. I would rather run, but I'm done making scenes for the day, it's a mortifying business.

On my way, Sasha stops me, "Hey, I forgot to give you this, I grabbed it before we got out of there yesterday. Figured you, or Carl, would probably want." She gives me a friendly smile and hands me the object, "I'm so sorry about what happened yesterday. How's he doing?"

I draw my lips to a tight line, trying to mask my emotion, "Good," I swallow roughly, "I was just heading there now actually."

"Ah," she nods, "I'd join you but I've got to make a quick run out to pick up the supplies we left yesterday. Sorry."

I shrug, "It's fine. Your condolences are enough." And I walk away.

Before I walk in to the infirmary, I pause. I close my eyes and take a deep breath, still convincing myself that's he's gonna be ok, that he _is_ ok.

I push through the entrance and head straight to Carl's room. He's alone except for the nurse that's re-hooking up an I.V. for him. He's sleeping, head is tilted away from me, so I can only see the bandaged side of his face.

I look anxiously at the nurse, and she gives me a friendly smile, "He's doing just fine, I replaced the bandages and made sure everything was nice and clean. You can sit with him if you want. He should wake up soon."

I let out a sigh of relief and thank her, I sit in my usual spot, resting the object Sasha gave me on the floor beside me, and prop my elbow on the arm of the chair, cheek resting on the knuckles of my closed fist.

I sit like that for a while, he at least looks peaceful when he sleeps, like nothing is wrong. I'm finally stirred from my half-trance when the nurse comes in with Carl's lunch, he still hasn't woken up. Once the nurse leaves, I start to doze, I didn't get but a couple hours of sleep last night.

I wake up a little while later and he's still out, or maybe he woke up while I was sleeping and I missed it. I pull my lips to a thin line and let out a sigh. One of his hands is lying near the edge and I pick it up, his normally warm hand is cold to the touch. For a moment I'm caught off guard, then I watch the steady rise and fall of his chest and I'm better.

About ten, fifteen minutes later, he wakes up. His waking slow and his eye is sluggish to blink as he turns his head around, remembering why he's here. It takes a moment for his bright blue eye to find me, but once it does it stays there.

"You're awake," I can't help but smile.

"Yeah," he blinks slowly again. I think he's coming off the meds some, because he looks a little less foggy eyed and he grimaces when he moves. He tries to sit up with a grunt, and I help him, propping up pillows.

"Hey, don't push yourself ok?" I look at him dead in the eye, "Let me help you. For once." I tease at the end. Carl starts to reach over for his lunch tray that the nurse left, but I stop him with a warning look. He lets out a begrudging sigh and goes back to his original position as I stand up, walk over to the other side of the bed, pick up the tray and set it in his lap.

"What? Are you gonna feed me too?" he rolls his eyes

I lift my eyebrows at him, "Don't test me Grimes."

He lifts the spoon and eats the leftover oatmeal. He's slow and his hand shakes at first, but he gets better quickly.

It's good to see him a little more normal, eating, sitting up. It's not much, but it's definitely more reassuring than any words a doctor or nurse could provide.

I sit back down in my chair and pull it a little closer, leaning on the bed, watching him eat. God that sounds creepy.

"You want some?" he offers

I shake my head, grinning slightly, "You're as bad as your sister."

"Is that a yes?" he turns the spoon towards me. I shake my head.

"I've eaten," my stomach grumbles in protest. Ok, it wasn't lunch, but that is his food.

He swallows his final bite and sets down the spoon, "How's Judy?" his eye tells it all. Even when he's been horribly wounded, his concerns are on that of others.

I nod, "Good, she's good. She misses you. I mean, it's only been half a day since you asked. Not much has changed since you last asked." with her.

"What about you?" he presses, "Are you ok? Have you been having headaches?"

I shake my head, "I'm fine. Everyone is fine, Carl. Honestly, you should worry more about yourself."

He frowns, "You didn't answer my question."

"Pardon?" I tilt my head.

"I asked if you've been having headaches. You didn't answer." his eyebrows knit together, or at least one of them tries. The other is covered by the bandaging.

"I'm fine." I insist, "How about you? How are you feeling?"

"Felt better, but I'm ok." he grimaces, obviously not wanting to move past this one point.

"I'm done talking about it Carl." I say plainly, indicating we're not talking about my health any longer, "Seriously, I'm fine, you haven't a thing to worry about." I lie through my teeth. He should be thinking about other things, if I told him the truth then he'd worry more. I don't want him to deal with that kind of stress.

He reaches over, a pained look tugs at his face, I lean closer so it's easier for him, he runs his fingers into my hair and rests his palm against my temple, "Well it's not like I have anything better to do, being stuck here and all."

I rest my hand on top of his, "If I brought you something better to do, would you stop worrying?"

"Maybe," he shrugs

I curl my fingers between his rough, callused ones, "I'll bring you some comic books next time I visit." I shift my position slightly, straightening my back some.

"You aren't leaving are you?" he instantly looks more worried, and I'm taken aback.

"No, no. I'll stay if you want me to," I promise instantly.

"Good," he nods, letting out a sigh of relief.

_Not that I don't like it, but why does he want me here so badly? Maybe it's the meds talking, I mean they must be pumping more into him, right?_

"Carl, are you sure everything is alright?" I lean my head against our intertwined hands.

"Yeah, it's just tough being stuck here. I'd like to be able to stay awake for more than just a few hours at a time, and all these tubes stuck in me feel ridiculous." He glares at his I.V. in particular.

I lean up and kiss his forehead, "I'm sorry sheriff, looks like someone else is gonna have to keep the town safe for a while."

A thought sparks in my head as I remember, "Speaking of sheriff, I have something I think you'll find you're missing." I reach down beside my chair on the floor and pick up the object.

As soon as he sees it, his face lights up, "My hat."


	5. May 9th

It's been three weeks or so since Carl was admitted into the infirmary. I've adjusted my daily routine to include a visit with him and play time with Judith. She hasn't gotten to see Carl once, and she asks every day. It breaks my heart to tell her no and I always ask Rick if maybe that today could be the day. But Rick would always look at his son and grimace nervously, shaking his head. Maybe he just didn't want Judith to see her brother in a slightly more gruesome light. I mean, bandaging covering nearly half of Carl's head would probably be quite jarring for the four year old. She'd seem some pretty dark stuff, but I suppose Rick didn't wanna traumatize her more. It goes back to the whole 'let's keep Judith from becoming cold' idea.

After about the second week I really stopped worrying about Carl, he was healing incredibly well and was awake for most of the day. There was no sign of infection, and they only kept him in the infirmary for precautionary reasons. This just drove Carl nuts more than anything else.

But today, they're finally releasing him. Today he finally gets to see Judith. She doesn't know it yet. We decided it would be a nice surprise for her.

I think the worst part about all this is he's not being released in the morning, but rather in the afternoon, shortly before dinner. Which means I have to suffer through my job, and I have no doubts the day will trickle by at a snail's pace. I'm actually going on a run today; I decided not to tell Carl because I think the whole thing is the slightest bit ironic. I've withheld a lot of things from Carl lately, but I only do them in efforts not to worry him. Starting with my headaches, they've become more frequent and have only gotten worse in magnitude. I've thrown up a couple times out of nowhere. And sometimes my vision will go wonky on me for a bit. I'm also not telling Carl because I'm afraid he'll want me to go see a doctor. But I'm afraid of what the doctor will tell me.

"Sam! Sam!" squeals Judith. She's become my regular alarm. She does her job well, I must say. But on mornings like these, where I'm waking up with a dull headache, it's a little less welcome. It also requires me to push away any cranky, snappy responses my brain wants to give. Most of which includes words that would inappropriately extend Judith's vocabulary. So I groan and sit up, giving Judith a false smile, but the eager look on her face is enough to turn the fake smile into a real one.

"Good morning Judy, how are you?" I stretch my arms up and yawn, blinking away the sleep from my eyes.

Her little arms are locked and her hands are pressed palms down as she uses the bed to help her as she jumps up and down, "Good! Good!"_ I've got teach her some more diverse words than 'good' to describe her mood. _

"Someone is excited," I can't break the smile from my face.

She nods, "Can we see Carl today?" never fails, every day almost immediately after I wake up.

I've gotten to where I mix up my answer, because a straight up no can be wearing on the child, I don't want to discourage her, she needs hope. And I'm not going to lie to her either so I say, "Maybe," I've used that one before, and it hasn't come true, but today it will. Today at last.

I get her dressed in a green shirt with a watermelon on it with a pink skirt. I put her hair into pigtails and put on her socks and shoes. I set her on her bed with one of her books while I duck into the bathroom and put on my purple and white striped shirt and dark gray cargo capris, I pull back my hair so it's less of a hazard when I go on my run and then

I'm ready to go.

Judy eats all of her breakfast without any coaxing from me. It's like she can sense that today's gonna be a good day. I get her dropped off at Paula's in a timely manner and then head to the front gate.

On my way I get stopped by Beth, her and Daryl's wedding is actually scheduled for a week from now.

"Sam!" she calls

"Hey Beth," I give her a friendly smile because today I'm in a friendly mood.

She smiles back, "Hey, I bet you're ready for Carl to get out today, aren't you?"

I nod emphatically, "Oh yeah, I can't wait for Judith to see him."

_Ok. Cut the small talk. What are you here for?_

She's not going for it though, because she continues to say meaningless things, "So where you headed off to?"

"Actually," I give a breathy laugh, "I'm headed out on a run."

She receives the news in such a way that I know that she's just dancing around the main reason of her talking to me.

She nods back, and then looks at the ground for a moment. She looks back up and rests a hand on my shoulder, "Would you mind doing me a favor if you could?"

_Here we go._

"Sure," I give her a fake smile, "Anything."

"Well," her lips push together nervously, like she feels bad for asking for this favor, "Daryl and I still don't have our wedding bands, and if you saw some, maybe you could pick them up? I know it's silly, but if you could, that would be great." she smiles and blinks her blue eyes at me expectantly.

"Sure!" I tell her, with more enthusiasm than necessary, "I will certainly try!"

Beth looks relieved, "Thanks, you're the best!"

I shrug, "No problem." and then I get on my way again to the front gate.

Sasha's there with Heath, Scott's nowhere to be seen and I'm not sure who else is going on a run with us today. But let's just say if it's Josh, I might find a way for him to 'mysteriously' not make it back home.

I look around, seeing if perhaps if anyone else was headed our way when Sasha speaks up, "If you're looking for Josh, he's not coming. Douglas, he um, dealt with him after what happened with Carl." she lowers her head and her voice

"Dealt with him?" I lift an eyebrow

_I was the one who was supposed to 'deal with him', make sure he learned from his mistakes. Not shake a disapproving finger and move on. At least, that's what I assume Douglas would have done._

Sasha swallows uneasily, "Let's just say, he won't be an issue anymore. For anyone..."

Still confused, I let it drop. If he's out of the picture that's probably good news for me.

We're joined by another man and a woman; both look like they're sensible and can handle themselves out there. The man appears to be in his early twenties and the woman in her thirties. I've seen them around, but never interacted. Sasha introduces the man as David and the woman as Betsy. Scott catches up with us as we're loading up on weapons in the armory, I forget what his excuse was, I think I tuned him out.

We load up into the van and I sit in the back next to Betsy. She's pretty quiet too, which I like. I'm tired of people I don't know, or like, talking to me. I've found it to be a chore.

Today, we're going to an abandoned mall. Runs of this sort are particularly dangerous. One, because malls are huge and walkers could be anywhere. Two, in the beginning, once people gave up on being in large cities for protection, they'd move to smaller facilities, like malls and schools and sometimes even super markets. Sasha and Heath scouted this place out earlier this week though, tried to lure out as many walkers as possible. They hooked up a boombox with big speakers to a car battery; I hope it'll be enough.

As we approach the mall I see a couple walkers off in the distance, but they don't appear to have noticed us yet. Heath parks us outside the Macy's and this time we're breaking up into groups of two. We won't hit the whole mall today, there's just no way it can be done efficiently. Today we'll just be taking the northern corner. Sasha and I will be taking Macy's itself, Scott and Heath will be tackling a vitamin and health store along with a military surplus store. David and Betsy are tackling a couple of restaurants to see if there's anything salvageable.

We split up once we all have our instructions and instantly my radar goes up and I'm more attentive for strange noises. Sasha and I are supposed to pick up little girls clothes in size infant to 8, boys clothes in 4-14, children's shoes in any sizes we can find, women's shirts and pants, men's shirts and shoes, pillows, and blankets. Oh and wedding bands if they'd even be around here. We take down the occasional stray walker or two, and Sasha decides the job would get done quicker if I went upstairs to collect the children's stuff.

So I walk up the broken escalator and I'm standing in the 'for the home' section, which includes the pillows and blankets on our list. I pile what I can beside the elevator, to collect them for later.

I turn back around, I start to walk in one direction and suddenly I stop.

_What was I supposed to get again?_

I search my mind, but for the life of me I can't remember. I walk around semi-aimlessly on the second floor. I walk out of the home department and into the kid's shoe department. I pause and I turn to the small shoes._ Shoes! I was supposed to grab shoes!_ They jump start my memory and I walk through the aisles of shoes. I pull the bag off my back and start stuffing shoes of all sizes into the bag, but only the useful ones. I skip over the flip flops and the cute little baby heels. Once my bag is full, I throw it over my shoulder and start to head back towards the escalator. I grab the pillows and blankets and begin to walk down the steps. I find Sasha kneeling down, putting some women's tank tops into her bags.

She looks up at me and my haul, "Got everything?"

I bend over, setting down the huge load in my arms, "Yup, they had it all, pillows, blankets, and shoes."

Sasha jerks her head up, "No clothes?"

I frown, confused, "Clothes?"

Sasha lowers her head and narrows her eyes, "Yeah, the kid's clothes. Were there none?"

"I was supposed to get clothes?" my eyebrows knit together.

Sasha stands up, she crosses her arms and studies me intently, "Sam, are you feeling alright?"

I shrug, "Yeah?"

It comes back to me in a strange flash.

_You dumbass! You were supposed to get the girl's and boy's stuff. Sizes infant to 12 and 8 to 14._

_Great. Now she's gonna think I've gone nuts._

"Right. The clothes. I'll go get those now, I just ran out of room in my bag." I try covering up my memory lapse.

Sasha doesn't look convinced, but nods anyway, "Right, just leave what you've got here. I'll keep an eye on it."

I grab an empty bag and turn around, mumbling angrily to myself. I scowl as I stomp up the stairs and I'm still beating up on myself as I walk down the walkway to the kid's clothing department. I walk into the little girl's section and start taking items off the rack in the sizes we need. I'm still lost in thought as I pass a fitting room to get over to where the baby clothes are kept. I stuff whatever I can find, grumbling intelligible things.

Then I hear a different grumbling. It's not my own, and it's accompanied by moans and scraping of feet.

"Shit!" I curse and drop the bag, grabbing for my knife. There are 3 of them. Nothing I shouldn't be able to handle, just gotta give myself some more space. I'm careful as I back up to the walkway of the department. One lunges for me head first and I plunge my knife into its skull. I yank it out and the walker falls to the ground lifelessly. Black blood trickles from the wound and I back up trying to prepare for the next one.

A wave of pain hits me.

_Not now. Not now. _

_Son of a bitch._

My mind stops thinking about the walkers, how they're getting closer, how I'm probably seconds away from consumption if I don't act fast, and it instead throbs with the insanity and pressure that is a headache.

My knife clatters to the floor and I fall to my knees.

_I'm going to die, I'm going to die._

_Scream you idiot! The others will come if you scream!_

_I'll be dead by the time they get here!_

I look up and the walkers stumble over their fallen buddy. Their dirty hands stretch out towards me and the smell is too much for my head to bear. I puke everywhere, on the floor, on the walkers, on myself.

I try to fight off the pain in my mind and focus on the real world. I backpedal, pushing myself back against the tile, my hands fumble backwards and on my way back they find my knife. My fingers grip helpless around the handle. My chest heaves and I bite my tongue, soon my mouth becomes bitter with the taint of blood. Not enough pain to distract me from the real problem. The walkers crawl after me, the adrenaline flows through me, but rather than making this easier, it makes my head pound harder. I squint my eyes shut.

_If I don't act now, I'm going to die, it can hurt later. Kill now. Kill or be killed._

I force my eyes back open and I try to get to my feet, but the pain is too disorientating, my butt hits the tile quicker than it left it.

_Gun, long range. Remember dumbass?_

So I keep pushing backwards and grab for my gun.

I curl my fingers around the gun and one goes to the trigger. I force my arms to stiffen, it's not good gun posture, but I can't afford to shake.

_BOOM! _

One bullet rings out, and it's like the bullet went to my brain instead of the walker's. I have to close my eyes again, trying to regain some mental abilities. I keep pushing backwards. I open my eyes again, _damn I must have missed_. Both walkers are still coming for me and trying to crawl over each other in the process. I push back more and my back slams into a pillar. It hurts, but my head still hurts more.

I look to my left, there's a rack of clothes. If they got close enough, and I could push the rack over, then I could crush their heads, or at least disable them. I close my eyes again, because I can literally feel my brain pulsing and pushing against my skull. I move as quickly as I can manage to the rack and I use it to pull myself up. When the walkers get close enough, I shove it as hard as I can. It falls over, but I fall with it.

I hear the sickening crush of skulls beneath me, and my shoulders heave as catch my breath. The growls have stopped, so I'll assume I'm safe. I push myself up from the sea of clothes and hangers. I fall to my knees, clasping my skull. My eyes squint shut and my mind shuts down.

I lay there for too long, people will probably start looking for me soon.

_They can't find me like this, whatever else happens, no one can know. _

_Come on. Get up, just push through it._

I release my head and start to push myself up. I'm attacked by the nausea again.

_Or not_. I choke back on my own bile.

I press my chin into my chest and it connects in my mind that I smell. Like reek, horribly.

_I have to change clothes._ I open my eyes and peek at my shoes.

_No. Not my Docs. _

I groan and roll over. I'm facing the pillar, which is a wall to floor mirror, I look past myself and I see the hand of a walker still stretching out for me. The rack shifts a little and I scramble to my feet. I grab my knife and clutch it so hard my knuckles turn white. I press my back against the pillar to keep me upright; I watch the hand for a little while longer, occasionally shutting my eyes because I have to. Its dirty nails curl into the grout of the tile and claws out hopelessly in my general direction. But air-clawing isn't doing a thing to me, so I deem the walker incapacitated and go to collect the dumb clothes. As I walk to the bag, I pass a checkout counter.

Someone had to have some kind of pain medication here. So I stumble over to it, my head still throbbing. I pillage through drawer after drawer until I find a bottle of Tylenol, that'll work right? Dosage says two tablets, but I do three. I swallow them dry and stuff the bottle in my pocket.

I grab the bag and decide it's enough, then slowly make my way back to the steps, my headache gradually waning, when I remember my clothes. I can't let Sasha see me like this.

I start to sneak down the stairs, ears perked for any noises, I look around for Sasha but I can't seem to find her. I get off the escalator and make a break for the juniors department.

I grab a blue and white plaid shirt, a clean tank top, and some skinny jeans. I make a quick change and dispose of my old, vomit ridden clothes. I find the shoe department before I find Sasha.

I grimace, _but my Docs!_

_But you don't wanna be found out do you?_

_No..._

_Then dump your boots!_

I cast one final, forlorn look at my boots before kicking them off and raiding the back of Macy's shoe department. The quick, hasty movements shake my brain around and put me out of breath quicker than normal. I slide down one, nearly black aisle and find what I'm looking for.

_Victory._

_And in a size 8, ha._

I find a brand new pair of black Doc Martens, identical to my old ones.

_Hey if it ain't broke don't fix it._

I lace up my new boots as quickly as possible and make headway towards the exit of this place.

It's like a shoe catacomb here. The shoes destined to never be worn. Row after row of heels, their only purpose now is maybe an emergency weapon to stab walkers through the eye. The place is downright creepy, and I'm glad when I get back out into the open where the world is somewhat less dark.

I turn the corner, heading back to the women's department and Sasha catches my attention, "Hey!" she shouts, her voice is not welcome to my ears. They were just adjusting to the silence. Nope, this headache has not dulled enough for me to deal with people, "There you are!" she walks towards me and I tell myself to act natural.

"Got those clothes you were looking for," I give her a fake smile, lifting up the bag of clothes.

She looks me over, "Looks like you got some new ones for yourself."

_Shit. She's on to me._

I shrug indifferently, "My old clothes were wearing out and I figured while I'm here, why not?"

Sasha nods, by the look on her face, I'm definitely on her radar. _Damn. _

"We should probably start heading back to meet up with the others, assuming you've gotten everything?" she lifts a wary eyebrow at me.

_I have everything don't I?_

_Beth._

"Actually, there is one more thing, but it's more of a specialty item. Does Macy's have a jewelry department?"

Sasha gives me a strange look, pondering why I need to go to the jewelry section, "Um yeah, it's towards the entrance to the rest of the mall by perfume and cosmetics."

"Cool, I'll meet y'all at the car soon." I promise, heading off in the direction I believe to be the mall entrance.

Somehow, leaving Sasha releases some of the pressure in my head and I take it as a good thing. I find the jewelry counter without a problem, I also find a cabinet with wedding bands. The key is, how am I going to get to them. I mean, I'm assuming there isn't any power for this thing, so I hope the alarm won't go off. Here goes nothing, I pull out my gun and fire at the glass.

It shatters and no alarm fills the air, my ears just ring with the sound of a bullet being fired off. I grab two bands that look like they'll fit Beth and Daryl respectively and then head to the car, stuffing the rings in my back pocket. Everyone else is already there by the time I arrive, but I act like it's nothing and pile into the back of the van.

I try and sleep on the ride back to the safe zone, for one of two reasons, to try and calm down this headache as much as possible, the meds are helping, but a relaxed state of mind couple drastically improve that. Two because I need to get my mind off the fact that I'm going to see Carl very soon, and he won't be in a hospital bed. The pure idea of it makes me giddy.

I don't think I actually fall asleep, but I feel a lot better when I get out of the van. I help Sasha distribute the supplies to those who need them and then I run into Beth.

"Hey," she smiles warmly, "you're back, did you..."

"Get the rings?" I finish her sentence for her, "Here." I pull the rings out from my back pocket, "I hope they fit alright."

Beth hugs me, "Thank you, they're perfect."

"No problem," I half hug her back

She walks off shortly afterward, and I've finished really helping Sasha, so with a couple new things for Judith, I go pick her up from Paula's.

Paula has stopped questioning where Carl is, I assume she must know, or she simply stopped caring. So when she opens the door and lets me in, there's no more awkward conversation, just Judith running to me excitedly.

"Sam! Sam! Come see what I made!" see grabs my hand and starts pulling me to a table with paper and crayons spilled all over the place. I kneel down beside her as she shows me her drawing.

"Look!" she points at the picture, it's a picture of all of us at the safe zone, our little group, "See, there's me and you and Cawl and Daddy and Meechonne and Dawyl and Beth!" she points at each person as she says their names. She drew Carl with his hat on, on one side of Judith and me on the other, and we're holding her hands, like that first day we were here and we swung her as we walked. She drew Michonne with her sword, and I think Daryl has his crossbow in one hand and is holding Beth's hand in the other.

A wide grin spreads across my face, "Judy, it's perfect. I love it and I'm sure the others will too."

"Cawl?" she blinks hopefully at me

I nod and smile, "Yes, Carl will really love it." speaking of which, "We should get going, Miss Paula probably wants us to get out of her hair."

Judith decides she wants to walk today, so she holds her picture in one hand, and tightly clasps mine in her other. We go back to the duplex and play for a while, then I tell that it's time to go to dinner even though it's a bit early. I make sure Judith's hair is nice and brushed out, and I take mine out of the ponytail and put on my beanie.

"Do you have your picture?" I ask her before we head out the door. She lets go of my hand and runs back to her bed and grabs her drawing and runs back, and then grabs my hand again.

"Yes." she beams happily up at me. We start walking towards the pavilion, "Will Daddy be at dinner? I wanna show him my picture."

I nod at her, "I'm sure he will."

We walk past the pavilion and Judith gives me a funny look, she points at the pavilion, "What about dinner?"

I try to be reassuring, "We'll eat soon." I tell her to let me carry her and for her to shut her eyes. She lets me pick her up and she wraps legs around my waist and her arms cling to my neck. She squints her eyes shut and presses her face into my shoulder, I keep walking, heading towards the infirmary. Just as we approach the entry, Carl and Rick come out, his face lights up when he sees me and Judy, I notice most of the bandaging is skillfully covered by his hair and he's even wearing his hat.

"Hey Judy," I tilt my head towards hers, "You can look now."

Her head whirls up and she immediately sees Carl, I set her down and she takes off for her big brother, "Cawl! Cawl!" her little voice rings with glee.

"Judy!" Carl's smiling wider than he has in weeks he bends down so he can give her a hug. She wraps her arms around her big brother and I walk up slowly, giving them their space.

"I missed you so much!" Judith tells Carl

Carl hugs his sister back, picking her up, "I missed you too, Judy."

"Is your boo boo better?" she asks, I think that's when she realizes that Carl looks different.

Carl looks past her to me, here's what he's been worrying about, "Yes. I'm much better now."

She looks at the bandaging, "Did you hurt your eye?"

Carl nods very slowly, "Yes, Judy. I hurt my eye very badly, that's why I couldn't play for so long."

"That's a big boo boo." Judith remarks, "Can I kiss it?"

Carl grins, "Sure, that will make it even better."

Judith kisses the bandage very carefully, "Now we can play?"

"Yes, but let's eat some dinner first, ok?" Carl laughs, he sets her down and I walk over to him. He gives me a hug and kisses me on the cheek.

"It's good to be free," he jokes.

"Daddy! Daddy!" Judith squeals, "Look what I made!" she holds her picture up so Rick can see it. Rick smiles, "That's very good, Judy." he picks her up and studies the picture.

Carl turns towards his dad and walks over to have a look at the picture. I stand behind him.

"It's beautiful Judy," Carl smiles at the drawing, I rest my chin on his shoulder and he grabs my hand.

"It's for you Cawl. I made it for you." she stretches across Rick to hand the drawing to Carl.

Carl takes the drawing, a smile still on his face, "Thank you, Judy,"

"You welcome," she beams

Carl sets the drawing in his backpack with his comics and other belongings I'd brought to him during his stay at the infirmary. I offer to carry the bag for him and he walks with Judith to dinner, he keeps a hold of my hand on the other side.

Dinner is the happiest meal I've had in a while, we're all together again and the food is better than normal. There's fresh vegetables and David and Betsy found like ten 20 pound bags of rice. There's even fresh meat, I think Daryl and some others went out on a hunt today. Squirrel and venison are abundant around the tables tonight.

After dinner, we head back to the duplex and Carl plays with Judith until it's her bedtime. I would've joined in, but I figure the two wanted to have some brother-sister bonding time.

So I just take a shower and then read on my bed.

The door swings open and Judith is running to me, Carl's leaning in the doorway, "Sam! Will you read to me?" she asks. She's wearing her little nightgown and her hair is still damp. She pulls herself up onto the bed and crawls over to me, sitting back on her heels.

"That's the only way I could get her to take her bath," Carl admits

I smile at Judith, "Of course I will," putting down my own book, "What would you like me to read you?"

She ponders this for a moment, "I want Cawl to pick."

Carl shifts his weight around, before finally coming into our room and sitting on the bed. He tugs one side of his mouth over in thought, "Peter Pan."

I look at him, and I can't move or say anything for a moment. He knows the history we have with that book, it's been through hell and back, and yet I still reach over and pull it out from my book pile to read it, to share it with new ears.

Judith curls up next to me as I read and Carl sits on her other side, back leaned against the wall, his hat is no longer on his head, I assume he's resting it on the floor. I get into the story and try to make it sound interesting for Judith, and I think it's working. However, about two thirds through, not to my at all surprise, I look up from my book and find them both asleep.

_You'd never know they were siblings_.

I crack a smile and pick up Judith, carefully carrying her back to her room. Her breath blows against my ear evenly, and her little head rests on my shoulder. I lay her down in her bed, tucking her in, making sure she has her favorite doll.

I walk back to my room, and when I close the door behind me upon entering, Carl stirs.

"Is it already over?" he mumbles, blinking sleepy eyes. I laugh a little and walk over to the bed, I kiss Carl's forehead, and he moves over. I sit next to him and he kisses me. Our first real kiss since he was shot.

"God, I missed you," he smiles as he pulls away.

It's really a strange thing for him to say he missed me. We saw each other every day, there wasn't much to miss.

But all the same, I understand it. We couldn't be then as we are now, and I missed the way this felt. The safety, the comfort. Yeah, I understand it.

I rest my head on his chest, "So did I. I'm glad you're back."


	6. May 16th

Today will be a good day. At least that's what I tell myself. Just for one day, I want not to have a headache, or throw up, or any other weird annoying thing that seems to infect and bleed into my daily life. The reason I'm so determined for today to be a good day is because it's Beth and Daryl's wedding. I want to be happy for someone else, so that means the universe will butt out, right?

Wrong.

I immediately wake up not by the shifting of Carl, or the sunlight streaming on my face, but by the pounding in my head and uneasiness in my stomach.

"Son of a bitch." I grumble, rolling onto my side, pressing my face into the pillow.

Carl turns over and wraps his arm around my side, "What is it?" he mumbles, still very much semi-conscious.

"Headache, stomachache. The usual." I've given up on lying to Carl, it's not easy and I'm almost positive it made things worse.

"Do you need me to get you some medicine?" he asks, propping himself up with his elbow.

"No," I pull my face out of the pillow, and I move my hand on top of Carl's, "It's not that bad, just give it a bit."

"You really should get that checked out you know." Carl insists. This isn't the first time he's told me that.

And I respond the way I always do, "What could they actually do for me? It's not worth it."

"It is to me, I wanna know what's wrong, bookworm. I don't like seeing you in pain." Carl protests

"Don't pull that bullshit." I grumble

"It's not bullshit," I feel him sit up completely.

I turn over onto my back and look up at him, "It's probably just migraines. They happen. It's just a thing, I'll get through it. Please don't waste your time worrying."

He shakes his head, "Sam, I love you, but you are stubborn as hell." he cracks the slightest smile.

"Touché, sheriff. Touché." I tease, sitting up, "Come on. There's a busy day ahead of us, we can't just lie around all day long."

Carl smirks, relaxing back a little onto his pillow, "Wouldn't that be nice though?"

I give him a look, "If only. I could read all day long."

Carl nudges me, "You could read to me all day long, sounds like a plan. We just skip out on the wedding and chill here."

_Haha, jokes._

"You're forgetting one thing, I am kind of Beth's maid of honor." I probably wouldn't have been Beth's first choice as maid of honor, but Maggie isn't here and she isn't close enough to any of the other girls here, I guess I just happened to be the default, "I can't just crap out on her."

Carl rolls his eyes, "Fair point."

We get up and around, I run over to Judith's room to help her get dressed while Carl showers.

"Hey Sam!" Carl shouts down the hallway. I'm helping Judith get into her purple dress and her nicest shoes, which just happens to be the pair she doesn't wear as much.

"Your big brother can't do anything on his own, can he?" I tease Judith, she giggles and I stand up, going to her bedroom door, I look down the hallway and Carl's only got a pair of cargo pants on.

_Lordy. Maybe he should walk around like that all the time. Casual Friday every day, anyone?_" What is it, Carl?"

"Are we supposed to dress up for this thing, or what?" he asks

I roll my eyes,_ he is such a boy_. I walk back down the hallway to our room, "Let me help you."

I pull open the drawer of the dresser with his shirts and I find a short sleeve red, yellow, white, and blue plaid shirt. It's new, or at least freshly borrowed... from a store.

"Here, wear this, you'll look nice. Honestly, sheriff, you're hopeless sometimes." I joke, handing him the shirt and kiss him on the cheek, "And make sure you shave, that scruff isn't gonna grow into much in the next couple of hours."

"If I keep shaving it though, it'll never grow into anything." Carl points out.

"Look," I shrug, "I can't help it if you didn't inherit your dad's ability to spontaneously grow a full beard within like a day."

Carl rolls his eyes, "Fine."

"Love ya," I call teasingly on my way back to Judith's room.

Now the wedding isn't anything extravagant, especially by standards of the old world. But it's still the biggest event the safe zone has ever had, everyone is taking the day off of work, except for a couple of people who are rotating guard duty, and Olivia and the girls from the kitchen have to cook the reception meal, there's even going to be a cake. As far as wedding details go, I'm the maid of honor, Rick is Daryl's best man, and Judith is the flower girl. Father Gabriel, who is the preacher here, will perform the ceremony. It's scheduled to take place at noon, the easiest time to approximate, which means we all get to sleep in and the reception meal will be a late lunch.

Once I get Judith all ready, I take her back over to our room so Carl can watch her while I get ready. I wear the nicest thing I have, which is a dark blue, button up, sheer blouse with a dark blue tank top underneath. The sleeves are fitting and cuffed, but the torso of the blouse is quite flowing below the bust. I pair it with my nicest jeans, and of course my Docs. I pull my half hair back and then that's as nice as I'm going to look.

I walk out of the bathroom, "Ready?" I ask the room. Judith is sitting in Carl's lap and they're reading a comic book together.

"One second," Judith calls, not looking up.

Carl closes the book after a moment, "Ok Judy, let's get going. We can read more later, ok?"

I smile at the two, Judith crawls off the bed and walks over to me, "Now we ready." she beams up at me happily.

I take her little hand, and after Carl grabs his hat, he joins us, taking Judy's other hand. He leans past Judy and holds out his other hand which contains something. He presses it into my empty palm, "Please, so you can enjoy today." I look at my palm, ibuprofen. I swallow the pills dry without another word. I mean, he has a point.

We head to the church, and people are already gathering there.

Rick's standing there, talking to Michonne by the doorway, he's wearing a green button up with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows and brown pants. Michonne's wearing a loose, sleeveless maroon top and gray pants. She turns to us and smiles as the three of us approach, Rick turns shortly afterward, nodding in acknowledgement.

"Daddy!" Judith calls, releasing Carl's and my hand, she takes off towards Rick.

Rick picks her up, "Hey baby girl, how are you?"

"Good!" she smiles

Michonne pulls out a basket from her back, "I believe this is for you, flower girl." she offers it to Judith and she takes it excitedly.

"I should probably go find Beth. I'll see you later, ok?" I turn to Carl, I kiss him on the cheek real quick before leaving him to be with his family.

I go into the church and the constant chatter of people in the chapel fills my ears. I make a left and go into a smaller room, it looks like it may have once been a Sunday School area. It now is used as a room for Beth to get ready in.

"Hey Beth, it's me, Sam." I call out, not seeing the bride to be.

Beth peeks her blonde out from a small bathroom in the corner, "Right here." She ducks her head back in and I hear another voice from the bathroom. It's obviously female and I vaguely recognize it. I walk over towards the bathroom and stand in the doorway.

It's Annie.

_Goddammit._

"Sam!" Annie says, with way too much enthusiasm to be authentic.

"Hey," I pull up the corners of my mouth up enough for it to be considered a smile and I give a halfhearted wave.

Annie's helping Beth with her hair. It looks like they took her hair and had it in several little braids and now they're undoing them all, leaving Beth's hair looking curly and really, really pretty.

"Need anything?" I ask patiently

Beth thinks for a moment, "Annie, I think I'm good now, if you wanna head out there, Sam can take it from here." she gives Annie a friendly smile and Annie tries not to look too hurt as she leaves the room.

Once the door shuts Beth lets out a sigh, "She is too chatty. I don't wanna sound mean or anything, she was helpful, but her talking was a _bit_ overwhelming."

_Tell me about it._

I just shake my head, "You're fine. It's your day anyway, who cares what anyone else thinks." I try and be positive for her.

She nods quickly, "I guess you're right. So how do I look?" she gestures to herself.

We couldn't find an actual wedding gown for her to wear, it was too inconvenient. But on a run a couple weeks ago, Sasha did find this dress. It's a pale pink spaghetti strap dress that floats around her knees with an elastic band at her waist, giving the dress shape. She's pairing it with her cowboy boots and she's pulled a few stands of the curly hair back with a white ribbon. She looks absolutely gorgeous, it's a shame Maggie or their father couldn't be here to see this.

"You look beautiful." I tell Beth honestly

She smiles, but there's tears in her eyes, I bet she wishes her family was here too, "Thank you."

"Don't cry just yet," I tease, "You aren't even married."

Beth laughs and she gives me a hug. It's a little unexpected, so I'm stiff at first, trying to figure out what's going on. But then I loosen up, and hug her back._ I'm here for her_, I remind myself.

On the sink behind Beth are two bouquets of wildflowers. Beth hands me the smaller one. She looks like she's trying to decide something for a moment, then she speaks, "Sam, can I tell you something?"

_Um what? _"Sure, anything." I give her a reassuring smile.

She bites her lip and takes a deep breath, "There's actually a pretty big reason why Daryl and I decided to get married. I mean, if this hadn't come up, I'm sure we would have gotten married eventually. But," she pauses for a moment and finally looks up at me, "I'm pregnant."

_Wait, what?! _"How long have you known?" I try to keep as calm as possible, my support never wavering.

"I think I took an actual test a couple days after we got here? But I've definitely suspected it for a while." Beth shakes her head, "Don't tell anyone else just yet. I just thought you should know, because we're friends and all. Besides Daryl, you're the only one that knows."

In a way, I'm very touched that I'm the second person to know about this. But I'm also very concerned and worried, for her sake.

"How far along are you?" the dress is loose on her body, but lately I have noticed her looking a bit bigger than usual, or maybe I'm misremembering things.

"3 and a half months or so, maybe 4? I'm not sure, but I can certainly feel it." she grimaces

I think back to all the things we've been through in the past three or four months. Then I think about how Daryl began to sacrifice his meals, so Beth would have food. All the times he'd make sure she stayed safe. It all makes sense now. But a secret like this... it just can't stay this way.

"You can't hide it from everyone forever, you'll be showing before too long." I warn her.

She nods, "I know. It's just... I'm nervous that's all." her jaw tightens and her eyes look scared. Her anxiousness is understandable. I mean the last person in our group to get pregnant was Lori, and everyone knows how that went.

I put on a brave smile for Beth and rest my hands on her shoulders, "Don't be. You're in great care here. It's a stable environment, there's doctors, everything will be fine. And I know you'll be a great mother."

I'm not lying there, she practically raised Judith when she was an infant. There are doctors. There is absolutely no reason why her pregnancy shouldn't go just fine.

Just then, I hear the other door open and I lean through the doorway to see who it is.

"Hey, is she ready?" Michonne asks, Judith stands obediently beside her, basket clasped tightly with both little hands, cheeks rosy with childish cheer.

"Yeah, I'm ready." Beth calls past me.

"I'll let them know." Michonne promises, "I'll just leave this cutie pie in your care."

Beth and I walk out of the bathroom and Judith runs over to me and grabs my hand.

"Beth looks really pretty." Judith tries to whisper, only she hasn't quite mastered that technique yet.

"Aw, thank you Judy. You look very pretty yourself." Beth blushes slightly.

Judith smiles and looks at the ground, antsy on her feet.

"You know what to do, right?" I ask Judith as we head out the door

"Mhm." She nods firmly

We stand in the foyer of the church waiting, and then the music starts and I release Judith's hand and tell her to start walking down the aisle. She does and starts throwing the flowers out of the basket, they scatter all over the floor and she giggles as she throws the flower petals everywhere. I crack a smile and I can hear Beth behind me quietly laughing.  
I make my way down the aisle next, and I can feel the eyes of everyone on me. I'm suddenly very glad this isn't my wedding, because this moment of attention is enough to make my face hot.

Ahead of me on the right are Daryl and Rick, Daryl looks as anxious as I've ever seen him. But then again, I've also never seem him in a button up shirt with the sleeves still attached.

I get to my spot and I stand still, waiting. Then the person at the church organ starts playing the traditional bride music and everyone stands, all eyes going to Beth, who's only got eyes on Daryl. You can see the anxiety melt from his expression, and his eyes are gentle as they look at her.

If I were being completely honest, I would've never imagined Daryl getting married. Not that I thought he couldn't, or he would never love another human being. It's just, Daryl doesn't seem like the settling down type. Although, Beth's recent confession makes this whole wedding make a whole lot more sense than it previously did. I also know he did this for Beth, she's the kind of girl who probably always dreamed of her wedding day. And he wanted to give her what he could. To me, I find that whole idea very sweet.

The ceremony begins and Father Gabriel says a few words before they get to the vows. I try to pay attention as best I can, but I have a hard time focusing and before I know it, Beth and Daryl are kissing and everyone is clapping. I join in like I haven't missed a beat. The newly married couple quickly makes their way back up the aisle and soon everyone piles out behind them. We're all headed to the pavilion for the reception. I make sure I stay with Judith so she doesn't get lost among the crowd.

Carl intercepts me on the way there and immediately grabs my hand, "Hey there, bookworm."

I know Carl would never admit out loud, especially to me, but I don't think he was looking forward to Beth's wedding. He's told me before that he had a crush on her before he met me. And even though he's greatly assured me he's moved on, I doubt he was super pleased to see her get married. Just like in the old world, you wouldn't be happy if your favorite celebrity got married.

I look at him, searching for any sign of emotion, but he's blocked it out, "How are you?"

"Fine." _Liar. _If he were fine, he wouldn't have to try so hard to keep out all emotion.

If Judith wasn't here I'd say something, "Good." I smile at him, even though my eyes beg him to tell me what's wrong.

We walk to the pavilion, and Olivia and the girls are serving lunch, which is venison, beans, fresh greens, and a slice of bread. We get out our plates and sit down at our usual table. Judith eats her bread first, clearly marveled by it. They must have made it this morning, bread is one of those things we really lost when the world went to hell.

"Judy, do you want mine?" I offer, after she put down her own piece.

She looks at it with wide eyes, "Don't you want it?"

_Yes, but I've had bread before_, "No, you can have it if you want it."

She reluctantly takes it, "Thank you Sam."

I smile at her, "No problem, kiddo."

She turns to Rick who's on her other side, "Daddy, look what Sam gave me!"

Rick smiles at his little girl, "That was very nice of her." He looks past Judith and gives me a thankful look, but beyond that I see something else. Wariness.

After a while Rick stands up, "Let's have a toast, to the bride and groom." We all lift our glasses of water because no booze could be found I guess. Rick makes a speech about Beth and Daryl and he calls Daryl his brother and it's all very sweet.

Then it hits me, I remember that I'm gonna have to make a speech, being the maid of honor and all._ Great._

Rick says something about the first time he met Daryl, he put a gun to his head. Daryl smirks and Beth leans her head against Daryl's arm. A couple others laugh and I can feel Carl looking at me.

He gives my hand a squeeze, "You ok?"

I nod.

Rick sits down and I stand up, "I guess I should make a speech too, huh?" I start out nervously.

This gets a couple laughs and I try to tell myself it's ok, "I'm so glad that I could be here today to celebrate the marriage of these two, and I'm extremely honored to speak and to be close enough to Beth to be considered her maid of honor." I take deep breath, so far, so good, "I met Beth and Daryl about the same time, we all used to live at a prison a couple years ago. And while at our time at the prison, I didn't know either of them particularly well, Daryl was just the man who told me that my father had died, and Beth was the closest girl to my age. But over time, they became my family, and I'm so glad that they could finally be together and get married in such a safe, stable place. I wish them well, and hope they have a long, happy marriage. To Beth and Daryl." everyone takes a drink to the toast, and my knees all but buckle in relief as I quickly sit back down.

Voices pick up again and create a dull, indiscernible, roar to my ears. My shoulders visibly relax as I take in a deep breath.

Carl puts his arm around my waist, he leans over next to me so that his mouth is almost against my ear, "You did great."

I turn towards him, "Thanks,"

He moves his head some, and I lean against his shoulder. We stay that way for a while and his presence is comforting.

Beth and Daryl stand up after a while and go to the table that holds the cake, they cut the cake together and then do the thing where they feed each other the bite of cake. Everyone claps, laughs, or does both and then everyone is served cake.

As we finish desserts, someone pulls out a guitar, and someone else pulls out a fiddle. I think there's another guitar or something of the sort, and soon they've got music playing. Beth forces Daryl to get up and even though he's not too keen on it, and his feet don't know exactly how to move, they make it through, and then the floor is opened up to everyone.

I'm leaning against Carl, halfway to dozing when I start to feel him shift. Almost like he's about to stand up.

_Carl, no._

_I swear._

_Don't you dare get up._

_I'm not going to move, no matter what. I will remain stagnant and there's nothing you can do about it._

_Carl._

He stands up.

_I will break up with you._

_I'm not afraid._

_Ok, maybe that was a bit overkill. _

_But I'm not getting up!_

"Come on," he extends his hand towards me.

_Son of a bitch._

I shake my head, "I don't know how to dance."

He snorts, "Neither do I, but I figure we should at least once, ya know?"

_One could say the same thing about sex, but I won't get into that._

I glare halfheartedly at him; he grabs my hand, and pulls me up._ No. Stop it. Unhand me!_

A slow song begins to play.

_Goddammit! As if this couldn't get any worse._

_This is too cliché. _

_I might puke._

He pulls me to the dance floor and sets his hands on my hips, I put my arms around his neck and we kinda step back and forth, imitating what we've seen before no doubt.

"This is so dumb," I shake my head at him, but a slight smirk forms on my face, "this is the apocalypse. We should be saving our energy for other things besides dancing." as I continue to sway back and forth anyways.

Carl rolls his eyes, "But in a way, I think we should be relishing this moment. This time where we don't have to think about killing other things and we can just... dance."


	7. June 23rd

I never thought that in this world, I could have a good and proper rhythm to each day. To the point where it's almost reaching monotony. Carl's wound healed enough for him not to wear bandages 24/7. I won't lie, seeing him without the bandages for the first time was pretty jarring. I mean, he's missing an entire eye. I'm the only that's seen it so far, he still wears the bandages around Judith, I think he's just trying to find a way for him to easily cover up the scar. His hair should be able to cover it up soon, but until then.

Today we've been given the day off. Which I suppose is a break from the routineness of it all. There are some pluses to being right on the river here. Of course, there's the obvious, it keeps walkers out, and is a perpetual water source, but there's also the fact that it makes summer plans really easy.

In the always constant effort of making life at Alexandria similar to that of life in the old world, someone found and fixed up a pretty big house boat, and they take a trip out onto the river once a week during the summer. You can like swim out in the river and stuff, it's supposedly really fun. Carl and I decided that we might as well put our day off to good use and will be joining another 10 or so people on the boat today.

We'd been planning this for a while, probably two or three weeks, whenever they told us that we'd have the day off. I've become more of a regular when it comes to supply running, and during my time out there, I picked up some swim trunks for Carl and a swimsuit for me. Because hey, they're there, and it's not like the walkers are going to use them.

We get up at the regular time this morning and I throw a shirt and shorts over my swimsuit, Carl puts on a shirt, and we quickly grab breakfast. Beth is taking care of Judith today. It's the usual oatmeal and then we head across the safe zone to the dock. The boat is tied up there and about four people are standing around, idly making conversation with one another.

Carl and I just stand there, occasionally exchanging a word or two, mostly just enjoying each other's company while everyone else arrives. Then a man taller than Carl with close cropped light brown hair and a scruffy beard.

He unlocks the boat, so I assume he's the captain, and we all climb on. He's insistent that everyone wears life vests at all times, which is fine by me. Everyone on the boat changes into the clothes they're gonna wear, and then we slip the life vests over that. He says his name is Nicholas if we need anything, and then takes his seat at the helm. Most of the people lounge either at the head of the boat, or on the inside, but Carl and I decide to head up to the top of the boat, one for privacy, and two for the view.

I climb the ladder first and when I emerge on top, I'm nearly blinded by the overhead sunlight. I squint, and shield my eyes from the sun as I stand up and walk on top of the boat. Carl quickly follows and he does the same as I. There are a couple of seats beside an alternate captain's helm. The seats are pretty big so Carl and I only use one. The boat starts its way down the river, and the noise of the motor is enough to prevent anyone else from hearing Carl's and my own conversation.

One arm is wrapped around my waist, and the other pushes back my hair and he idly plays with it, "How are you feeling?"

He gave up on trying to get me to go to the doctor, maybe he's hoping I'll say I'll go on my own, but that's doubtful. It's not that my headaches have gone away, or the nausea has stopped bothering, or even that I've stopped randomly forgetting things; rather I'd say they've gotten worse. But in a way, I've kind of adjusted, learned to pull through. I've found ways not to let it show, or to the best of my abilities at the very least.

"Headache," I shrug, "not too bad. Nothing to worry about."

He shakes his head, "I always do." he kisses my head. I lean back and we watch the world beyond the river's coast go by. I watch a couple walkers stumble into the river's current and soon get pushed down stream while we head up, against the natural flow.

I find myself comfortable enough to starting dozing. Lately I've constantly being battered with fatigue, it comes on before I know what's happening. But strangely, it can disappear as quickly as it came.

"Hey," Carl's voice brings me back to the real world, "he stopped." I blink quickly and sit up straight, inhaling quickly. We're stopped at a wide point of the river and there's an isle in front of us that we appear to have beached upon. The roar of the motor is off and I can hear the dull echoes of conversation on the deck below Carl and I.

"Should we head downstairs and see what we're supposed to do now?" I ask.

"Or we could jump right on in." Carl shrugs.

My eyes go wide, "Or we could not." my eyes dart nervously to the waters below us.

"Come on, don't be chicken." Carl nudges me playfully.

"I'm not jumping from here." I protest.

Carl frowns, his brow knits and he looks like he suspects something, "I thought heights didn't bother you? What about your place back at the prison?"

"That was different," I shrug, "there was no jumping off platforms involved. I'm not doing this."

Carl gives me a sly smirk, "We'll see about that."

"If we jump in, your bandages will get wet." I point out logically.

Carl shrugs, "And? Everything is pretty much healed, it won't be the end of the world if my bandages get a little damp." _that's an understatement_, "C'mon rebel. Let's just be crazy."

My heart thumps nervously as he says the word 'crazy', his eye lights up and it gleams with a challenge. A challenge I normally wouldn't refuse, but today, my mind refuses to budge.

I'm not scared of heights, that's preposterous, I'm scared of falling. Granted, Carl could and would reduce that fear significantly, but my mind refutes the very idea of jumping off the roof of the boat into the water.

"'Crazy.' You use the word liberally." I roll my eyes. I can hear people behind us begin to climb up the ladder, their voices gradually becoming more in focus as they get closer.

"Sam. Goddammit, you are jumping in, even if I have to push you." Carl sets his jaw.

I glare at him, "You wouldn't dare."

He lifts his eyebrows at me, "Oh wouldn't I?" his smirk is infectious; I grind my teeth trying to fight off the urge to crack a smile. _No. Don't let him win._

I give him a dirty look, "You won't is the point."

There's a mischievous glint in his eye that he tries to cover up, but I see right through his wall. He stands up and he takes my hand and pulls me to my feet, "We'll see."

People climb over the railing and throw themselves off the side, into the murky, blue-green below, only to emerge a few seconds later, spewing river water with insane grins plastered upon their faces.

_Weirdos._

Carl nudges me, "See doesn't that look fun?"

I roll my eyes at him, "Sure. Possibly dying looks like a lot of fun." as if our daily lives didn't involve possibly dying.

He squeezes my hand, "No dying involved. I promise."

"Or we could just go below, and get into the water right off the boat." I reason.

Carl gives me a slow, bored blink, "Fine."

"I win." I taunt as we walk to the ladder and go downstairs.

Carl jumps in from the back of the boat, but I take the small ladder that folds out into the river. The water is freezing cold against my legs, and later my body, but the life jacket is nice, because now I can just float. My body soon adjusts to the cooler temperature, and now it feels nice as the hot sun casts its rays down, slowly baking us. The river current is less strong here and is almost at a standstill. Carl chooses to swim around, playing and splashing me, I splash him back and occasionally kick my legs if I want to move around a bit.

I probably haven't swam since it all started, and so doing this gives me a false sense of paradise, maybe? I'm not really sure how to describe it, I'd say normality, only normality has changed. Normality has become surviving. Only survival, never playing or dancing or swimming. Living in Alexandria has become a break from the usual, and even two and a half months later, I still haven't really adjusted.

The bandages begin to melt off his face and I notice him push his hair in front of his eye to try and cover it up. He's clearly self-conscious about it, no matter what he might say.

"I'll be right back," I tell him and I swim back towards the boat. I grab a towel that sits on a chair and drive enough to step inside. I ask Nicholas if by chance there's any sunglasses around here. He tells me he thinks there might be a pair in one of the drawers and then points to the said drawers. I go through them until I find a pair of square, black sunglasses with wide frames and especially dark lenses. I thank him and then I turn around, heading back outside. On the way, I poke out the left lens and find Carl standing out on the deck, waiting to see what I've done. I simply place the glasses on him and remove the soggy bandaging. You can see some of the tarnished skin that will no doubt form as horrible scarring, but the eye itself is obscured, but I can still see his one good, blue eye through the empty frame.

"There. Now no one will be able to see it," I reassure him.

"You sure it looks ok?" Carl gnaws on his top lip.

I smile sweetly at him, "You look fine."

His eye widens and he studies me, but says nothing.

We stand there for a while, the splashing and joyful screams of others all around us. One person jumps off from the top and the splash covers us.

Carl's mood instantly changes, "Come on." he grabs my hand and goes for the ladder.

_I'm just not going to win._

I allow him to half pull me up the ladder, get me over the railing, and I stare down at the water below before I let him know, "I'm not jumping."

Even with the sunglasses, I can see the exasperation in his expression, "Sam."

I shrug meekly, but a smirk manages to sneak out.

"I'll hold your hand," he teases

I cut him a death glare.

"It's not like there giant flying robotic laser sharks down there just waiting to get a bite of some tasty Sam." a full smile spreads across his face, even he can't contain the ridiculousness of the idea.

I deadpan, "You've been reading too many comic books."

He doesn't give me some snarky reply, nor do I have time to refuse his efforts any longer, because he grabs my hand and he jumps pulling me with him. I let out a scream that doesn't take very long to get masked by water. When we hit the water, he lets go, and I swim to the top on my own, the life jacket helping speed up that process.

I break the surface and spit out water, Carl is laughing his head off and I splash him extra hard.

"You asshole!" I scoff, only half meaning it.

"I win." his eyebrow darts up in victory. And I just glare at him.

_Ok, that was kinda fun. __**And**__ I didn't die._

_Double win._

"Ready to do it again?" _can he tell I actually liked that?_

"No." I keep my straight face.

Carl lets out a frustrated sigh, "You are so difficult." he teases. He's not really being pushy, he's never pushy, he knows when to draw the line, and for that I'm grateful.

"Maybe just once more. To shut you up." I allow, my mind instantly disagrees, but I push it aside.

"Yes!" Carl's expression lights up and we swim back to the boat, Carl climbs the ladder quicker than I do, so I let him go first and he's already jumped off by the time I reach the top of the ladder. I climb over the railing, and he stays where he is, watching me from below.

"Come on!" Carl calls, "Jump already!"

My throat tightens and I remember why I didn't want to jump in the first place.

"I'm right here," he uses a gentler tone, "you'll be fine."

_Come on, just jump to Carl. He's at the bottom. There's nothing to be afraid of. Just_-

I hurl myself off the boat's edge and go flying into the water. I emerge from the water below, heart pounding wildly and gasping for air.

"And that is the last time I do that." I tell him as he continues to laugh at my flustered state.

"Jerk." I grumble

He swims over to me, "I love you."

I snort, "Don't pull that bullshit."

He tackles me in a hug, pulling me underwater for a moment, I push up to the surface and shove him, "What? Are you trying to kill me or something?" I joke, still spitting out river water.

Carl rolls his eyes, the water gives Carl an almost child-like spirit, much like the dancing and carnival did, I like it, but my mind disputes it and is not eager to match his eager attitude, "Yes. You've figured me out. My plan has been to murder you all along." he deadpans

"I knew it!" I joke, forcing my tone to sound happier than I actually feel.

After that, Carl jumps off the boat several more times, and each time I rate his splash, promising if he gets what I deem a 10 I'll kiss him. I'm done jumping for the day, all the action has taken my headache from ignorable, to borderline blinding. I take deep breaths and try to provide the oxygen I'd imagine my brain needs. I just float in the water and try to block out the rest of world, occasionally paying attention to Carl for his sake.

He jumps, there's an overly large splash, drenches the part of my body that is above water, he swims over to me, I give him a meek rating, he rolls his eyes and I shrug, telling him it's not my fault he sucks at cannonballs, then he goes back to the boat and the process starts all over.

"9.9," I tell him this time.

"Oh come on!" Carl protests, "That was like perfect! Round it up." he practically begs with a grin on his face.

I shake my head, "Nope. That wouldn't be an honest rating, now would it?"

"I can live with not completely honest," he insists

I play coy, turning away from him, "Try again."

He grabs me from behind, and I let out an uncharacteristic squeal.

"I'm not kissing you," I insist, I can barely contain my laughter.

"Then I'm not letting go." he counters

"Just play by the rules," I fight to keep my tone even. I love this, or I want to.

I know I would normally love this, but today, my brain refuses to be happy.

Carl releases me, and I turn around, Nick stands on the deck and calls out, informing us that it's about time to go, we only have a couple more minutes before we'll have to head back.

"Go." I push Carl, "One last jump. Make it the best."

Carl hands me the sunglasses that he's miraculously hung onto somehow, "Then hold onto these. And you better be watching. I'll be damned if I don't get that kiss." He swims back to the boat, and I sit patiently waiting for him to jump.

He gets to the top and jumps, the displaced water reaches the height of the boat.

_Ok. That's a 10._

He swims eagerly over to me, "So? How'd I do?"

I offer him his glasses, he quickly takes them and puts them back on.

"Now. Tell me." his eyes eager for an answer I'm sure he already knows.

I shake my head, tauntingly, "Let's get back to the boat."

We swim back and dry off. Carl's even patient enough to wait until we get back to the chair on the topside of the boat before he starts pestering me for an answer.

The boat motor fires up again and I finally give him his answer.

I pull away after a while, "Happy?" I poke his chest.

He wraps his arm around my body, "I am now." I rest my head against his life jacket covered chest. It cushions the pounding in my skull.

I stare into nothingness and think for a while, before long my thoughts come aloud and I let Carl in on my thinking process, "I think I'm gonna go see a doctor."

I feel Carl turn to me, but I don't look up, "What?" he asks, "You were mumbling, can you repeat that?"

I clear my throat and try to speak louder, "I said I think I'm gonna get my headaches checked out. I've been stubborn long enough. I think it's finally time I went to a-"

My voice drops out, and I feel like there's little electrical shocks in my head, like all of the blood in my body moved to my head and now tingled with all the pressure. I continue to stare straight ahead, finding my eyes couldn't move. I tried to shift positions, but my limbs refused to respond. Then I could feel them like they were twitching, back to life, but I wasn't in control.

Fear raged my mind, but even that couldn't bring me into the control of my own actions. The twitching continued and all I wanted was to stop. I feel myself be turned, and in my tunnel like vision, I see Carl now. His mouth is moving, and he appears to be very scared and looks like he might be yelling, but the words do not make it to my ear drums. It's like I've been locked in a sound proof room.

_Have I died?_ The sudden thought ravages my mind.

_Have I just dropped dead and become a walker? Is this what it's like?_

_No. It mustn't be. There's no way._

_Headaches don't kill you._

I feel my arms moving sporadically, and I fight for control, but I'm not even granted that much. All is lost as I'm taken into a blackness of nothing.

I wake up who knows how much later, but I'm not on the boat, I'm not wearing a life vest, or my swim suit, rather a large t-shirt and pajama pants. I next notice the softness of a pillow beneath my head and a mattress cushioning my body.

I start to sit up, immediately greeted by a nauseating sense of wooziness.

"Hey. Hey. Hey." _good I can hear again_. I think the voice is Carl's, I start to turn my head to see, but I he moves into my line of sight on his own, "Relax, don't try and sit up or anything." he gentles pushes my shoulder back down.

"The hell happened?" my throat is dry and words come out rough.

Carl's expression then becomes one of fright, "You had a seizure." by the way he says them, I know the words do not come easy to him.

I can't have heard that right, "A what?"

"Seizure, Sam. You had a seizure." I feel his hand over my own, and I begin to really start taking in more of my surroundings.

I'm in the infirmary, I can hear the beeping of machines next to me. No one else is in the room besides Carl. My mind tries to process this new information, and frankly I'm struggling to grasp the concept.

"So what did the doctor say?" obviously, some medical authority must have had to analyze me and my situation, right?

Carl grits his teeth and stares blankly, trying to find the right words, what to tell me, what to not.

"Carl."

"Sorry," he coughs to clear his throat, "She, uh, said she'd come back when you woke up. She said she had some theories, but wanted to ask you some questions to get a better idea, I tried to tell her what I could, but she said you knew you best. You have to promise to be 100% honest, Sam. You can't hold anything back. This is serious stuff, you can't try and protect me, or make it sound better than it might be. Do you understand?" I don't like the underlying desperation in his tone.

"Yeah, I get it." I grumble, "Now help me freaking sit up. Because apparently I can't do shit on my own." resentment boils in my tone, and I sound rougher than I intended.

Carl puts one hand behind my back and helps me up, and I hate every second of it._ I don't need help. I can sit up on my own._ More nausea tells me otherwise.

"You know this is exactly what I went through." he tells me sympathetically.

I bite back a harsh comment about how at least I have both eyes.

"It is no fun," I admit.

He looks softly at me and one hand runs through my hair, all I want to do is move and prove I'm not helpless or weak or- I try to shift my position some and I nearly throw up what little must be in my stomach.

"Told you, please just let me help." he looks me dead in the eyes.

I open my mouth to reply, but the opening door cuts me off, and both of our attentions go to the woman who appeared in the doorway.

The lady has red hair and square glasses, she gives me a warm smile as she introduces herself, "Sam, I'm glad you're awake. My name is Denise and I have a few questions for you."

I nod and she sits down in a chair beside me, on the opposite side of Carl. The weight of his hand clasping mine is enough to show he's there so I keep my head turned towards the woman, seeing as that's as much as I'm allowed to do at the moment.

She reviews what Carl already told me, about how I must be completely honest and how I can't hold anything back, "If there's anything different from usual that's happened, I need to know. This could be a considerably minor problem, or it could be potentially life threatening. Do I make myself perfectly clear?"

I nod again, and take a deep breath_. Here it comes._

She goes over what Carl's already told her, the headaches, the nausea, and obviously, the seizure. Then she asks how often I have the headaches and how intense they are.

"About every day," I tell her, "Some days it's just an annoying ache, but other days it's a splitting pain that makes thinking impossible."

Denise jots this down on her clipboard and then continues her questions without looking up, "Has anything else been going on? Increased fatigue, increase or aversions to your daily food consumption, behavioral changes, sensory problems- for example inexplicable vision changes, sudden short-term hearing loss, etc.?"

I think about it for a moment, "I have been feeling more tired lately... and I have had some vision issues. It's really strange, and I'm not sure this has to do with anything, but sometimes, I'll just randomly forget things, or I'll just lose the ability to concentrate. And before, that almost never happened... is that... an issue?"

Denise looks at me and then back to her paper, lips drawn to a line. _That's never a good sign,_ "No sudden changes in behavior or mood, out of the ordinary?"

"Yes." Carl answers for me.

I turn towards him, "Really?"

"Yes." he confirms.

"Is that everything you can think of?" Denise asks

"Yeah," I nod after a moment of recalling.

Denise takes in a deep breath and looks up from her paper, "Now, I can't be for sure, not without doing some scans for sure. But it is my strongest believe that you are experiencing the symptoms that I can only narrow down to brain cancer."

I stare in horror at the doctor. She says brain cancer, but all I hear is _"I'm going to die."_


	8. June 24th

As I later found out, I woke up late in the night, closer to midnight, so after Denise delivered her analysis, she excused herself so I could get some rest and perhaps some of her own.

Carl hasn't said a word. I think he's just as shocked as I am. I mean, who'd have thought. Cancer. As if the world wasn't shitty enough.

"I should have pushed harder," Carl says finally, I turn to him and he looks like he may be fighting off tears. I have to restrain my own, I can't cry now. Not even now.

"What?" I look at him like he's grown a second head.

"If I had pushed harder to get you to go see a doctor, then maybe-"

I cut him off, "Don't be stupid, Carl. It's not like finding out any sooner would've done me any good. You can't blame yourself for this."

He doesn't look satisfied by this. But I can't bring myself to admit that there's nothing they're going to be able to do for me. They couldn't cure cancer in the old world, the height of medical advances and technology; they sure as hell can't now.

We don't even know how bad it is. I could live for a while yet. There's no reason to treat it like the end of the world.

But I could also not. It could kill me tomorrow.

Panic rises in my chest. _What am I going to do?_

"How much do the others know?" I ask, a new thought burning in my mind.

Carl shakes his head, "They only know whatever might have gotten around. I haven't left, and no one has been here, so I'd say they probably don't know much."

"Then who got Judy?" _good, distract yourself with the little things_.

"I'm sure they know something is wrong, Beth probably got her. Don't-"

I interrupt him, "You should go. At least tell your dad what's going on. That way they don't get the wrong idea." I don't really want him to leave, but I need to figure out things on my own. And I don't want him to see what I'm afraid might happen.

He studies me for a moment, "Are you sure? You'll be ok?"

I try to give him a reassuring smile, "Yes, I'll be fine. I promise."

He lets out a defeated sigh. He stands up and leans over me, kissing my forehead, "I'll be back in a couple hours."

I run my hand over his forearm, "You probably need some sleep too, just come back in the morning."

"It is morning," he points out, "Just super early." There's a slight grin on his face, and I find it within myself to smile back.

"Well then come back later this morning, dork." I kiss him for real and then he finally pulls away and starts to head for the door. He grips the door frame and turns around at the last moment.

"I love you, bookworm," his smile is sad and it makes my heart hurt.

"I love you too, sheriff." my smile is equally as weak and fades as he turns his back and heads out the door.

The back of my head hits my pillow and I stare at the ceiling.

It honestly doesn't feel real.

_Cancer? Me. No. Never._

You'd think in a world already up to its ears in shit wouldn't have any room for cancer and crap like that. It's just not fair. My death has been all but laid out before me. How ignoble is that? To go out that way and all. I mean, I could have my face eaten off, or shot fatally trying to save those I love. But no. Cancer. I'm going to lie here and die, weaker and weaker until _it_ takes me over and I'm gone. And my kind, being in the brain will surely mean my mind will just deteriorate until I'm useless. No intelligent thoughts, no powers of observation. I'm going to lose what made me, me.

That's when the tears start to fall.

The silence that I all but demanded becomes too much, it rings in my ears and I need something else. Anything else.

"It's just not fair!" I scream, I know I shouldn't, other people are trying to sleep. But hey, it's filling the silence.

"Why me?!" I yell at the still air around me. Not expecting an answer, but I do it anyway.

"What did I ever do to deserve this?!" my chest shakes and I let in a shaky gulp of air. I sit up, drawing my knees to my chest.

I rest my head against my knees, "I don't want to die," my voice cracks and it comes out a broken whisper as tears hit my sheets.

I wrap my arms around my legs and I cry like that until I'm exhausted and I suppose I pass out.

A nurse comes into the room, sometime after the sun rises, waking me up. In the early morning light, I recognize the nurse.

"Rosita?" I ask. She wears more covering clothing than I remember, but she still wears that cap with her hair in pigtails and those dumb hoop earrings. If you ask me, with earrings like that, she was asking to get grabbed by a walker. But that's in past.

She smiles kindly, "Hey Sam, I just came to bring you some breakfast." she gestures to the tray in her hands.

"You found a job." _Wow, that sounded a lot harsher than I originally intended._

Rosita shrugged, "Douglas figured I'd be best here, and that was that." she sets the tray on the table next to me, "How about you? I heard some pretty ugly stories about why you're here."

"That's one way to put it." I grimace, "Apparently, Denise-"

"Doctor Cloyd," Rosita interrupts.

I fight the urge to roll my eyes,_ do I really care? It doesn't change things_, "Yeah, her. Anyway, she decided that I have uncontrolled cell growth occurring in my cranium region."

Rosita shakes her head, "That is the strangest way I've ever heard someone explain they've been diagnosed with brain cancer, kid." she gives me a sad look, "That really sucks."

_Oh really? I hadn't noticed._

"I mean, look at it this way, at least you'll have plenty of time to prepare yourself and say goodbye. It's actually not too bad a way to go, in terms of other ways these days." _How the hell is that supposed to make me feel better? I'll have more time to suffer and feel pain? To slowly lose my mind until I'm lying in bed, staring at the ceiling blankly, shitting myself. Yeah, sounds pretty damn great if you ask me._

"How can you say that." my lip curls at her. _She doesn't get it. She cannot possibly understand the hopelessness I feel. _This is_ not_ an optimal way to die. I'd take any other way.

Her lips draw to a line, "I was just trying to help." She sets down the tray and then turns to leave. She walks out the door, but quickly pops her head back in, "You have visitors."

"Ok, he can come in," I shrug, not caring anymore. It's probably just Carl anyway.

Well, I'm partially right.

Carl enters first, followed by Daryl and Beth.

"Hey," Carl smiles at me, it's not genuine, or at least I don't believe so, because I can still see the guilt that shrouds his eye. He walks over to my side and his fingers graze my cheekbone. There's something different, something wrong, this is not the Carl that left me last night.

"You brought company," I refer to Beth and Daryl

"Yeah, the others are outside, but they wanted to come in first." Carl looks at his feet, he's obviously uncomfortable, "Judith's out there."

My heart aches a little at the mention of Carl's younger sister; she'll never be able to understand.

"How much did you tell them?" I ask quietly.

"Just about the seizure, I figured you'd want to be the one to tell them." he replies, matching my volume. This is not what I wanted. I don't know_ how_ to tell them. I turn my head to Beth and Daryl who still linger slightly by the door. I wave for them to come closer.

Beth has a visible bump now. She announced it to everyone a couple weeks ago, probably because she was getting too big to hide it anymore.

"Hey," she smiles the warm, comforting way Beth does best, "How are you feeling?"

I definitely feel stronger than yesterday, considering I can move more without getting absolutely nauseated, "Better," I try to return the smile, "I'll probably be out of here before tomorrow."

Carl loses his mask of total lack of emotion as physical shock overtakes his face, "Sam, what are you talking about? You can't leave. You gotta stay here... you gotta stay where the doctors can take of you." he presses. That's how shocked I know he must be, he wouldn't bring this up when Daryl and Beth here if he wasn't. Or maybe he's just releasing what's been building up inside of him, either way, it's not favorable.

Daryl narrows his eyes at Carl, he's suspectful, "I don' see why she can't. I mean, if she feels up to it, it's her own damn business." he rests a hand against my shoulder blade, "She's a fighter, if she's that quick to get back on her feet, I don' see why she can't."

Beth looks at her husband, then to Carl, then to me, she rests a hand on my shoulder, "Daryl's got a point Carl, as awful as it may be, it doesn't mean she needs to kept here. If she's healthy-"

"But she's not!" Carl blurts out.

Beth frowns, tilting her head cautiously, "Carl, it was one seizure. I understand it was a horrific, unexpected thing but-"

"Don't you get it?!" Carl's arms are trembling, he should've told them. He shouldn't have kept it in. Oh Carl.

"I have cancer," I tell them, _let's not make this any more difficult than it has to be._

"Whut?" Daryl's eyes grow wide as they look at me, conveying more fearful emotion than I've ever seen.

"Sam, what are you talking about?" Beth suddenly gets very serious. She takes a cautious step towards me. I knew this would happen.

"The doctor evaluated me, and to the best of her abilities, she diagnosed me with... with brain cancer." I try to keep my tone steady, they can't know how scared I really am.

"Sam!" Beth exclaims, "But... how?" her thin eyebrows knit together and she looks me over in utter disbelief, mouth slightly agape.

I shake my head, "If I knew, I'd tell you."

Daryl squats next to me, so we're closer to the same height, "Are ya sure?"

Daryl's been the closest thing I've ever had to a father figure since my own father's passing, he's taught me so much, and to see him now, it's really something else. He's never been a man of many words, or emotions for that matter.

"I mean, as sure as I can be right now." I shrug.

"Can't they do anything?" Beth asks, her eyes look so dismayed.

_I shouldn't have said anything. I shouldn't have upset her._

_I'm such a terrible person._

I shrug, "Den- Dr. Cloyd didn't really discuss options with me, just the diagnosis, and it's nothing official, just matching symptoms to answers." I try and turn things around.

"So there's a chance?" Beth's eyes widen at the chance of optimism.

"Yeah, I mean it could all just be a terrible coincidence." I go along with her hope.

She searches deeper, "Do they have any of those PET scanners here? Like they used to have in the old world?"

I shake my head, "I don't think so."

Daryl's eyebrows knit, "So tha's it? Ya just take the word a some could be doctor? Maybe she's bullshittin' ya. Maybe she ain't really a doctor and tells ev'ryone she meets they got the cancer."

I shake my head again, "I wish, she seemed pretty serious about it."

That doesn't settle well.

Daryl looks down, thinking for a moment, "So say you do..." he cuts off, his voice becomes hoarse and low, "have cancer," he clears his throat and starts up again, "how long do ya think ya got?"

Hell if I know, "Dunno." I shrug meekly.

Carl hasn't said a word through all of this. He's not even really looking at me anymore, he's glaring at something that's not there, jaw set hard.

"Carl, could you go wait in the hall for a bit, so Daryl and I would just like to speak to Sam alone," Beth requests.

The only way he acknowledges he heard her, is by heading at the door at a solid, empty pace, hands stuffed in his pockets. The door shuts fairly loudly behind him.

"We knew something was wrong when neither of you picked up Judith, and when you didn't come to dinner. Rick had his suspicions, but nothing he let onto Judy about. Then Carl shows up at our house so late - luckily Rick was over. His eyes all red, we all knew Rick was wrong. When he told us, he seemed very cold about it, and not once did he look at any of us. He just stared into space, like he was just now. I haven't seen anything like it from him a long time, Sam." Beth tells the story, and I admit, I'm still wondering what the point of it all is.

"He's damn torn up about the whole thang. Didn't speak after he told us what happened, n' then he just left. Didn't talk at breakfast neither, until lil' asskicker asked where ya was." Daryl looks at me dead in the eyes, and there's masked pain behind his given emotion.

"How… how did he tell her," I gulp, looking nervously at the two.

"Said ya was sick," Daryl explains, "I figured there was more to what he sayin', but I'd never have thought somethin' like this."

"What we're trying to say," Beth cuts in, "is he ain't right in the head anymore. This diagnosis, it's taken this toll on him. I'm worried for both of y'all, Sam. We just wanted you to know that. Now we'll get out of your hair, but please keep us... updated."

I nod in response, "Can I see her? Judy I mean," I ask

"Yeah," Beth nods, "She's right outside."

Daryl stands as Beth heads to the door, "I love ya, kid. Don't go dyin' on me, 'K?" Daryl rests his hand on the top of my head and ruffles my already messy hair.

"'K," I falsely promise, it's not like I can control that kind of stuff.

He follows Beth out the door and a couple moments later Judith runs through the door, closely followed by Carl and then Rick.

"Sam! Sam!" Judith squeals excitedly, her little hands rest on the bed and her big green eyes look up at me happily.

Carl's still not really talking and Rick closes the door behind him, then leans next to the door frame. Carl goes to my other side and Judith pulls herself up onto the bed. Rick looks to me, to see if he should correct her or not, I give the slightest shake of my head and then my attention goes to her. She sits on my bed with her legs tucked under her.

"Hey Judy! How have you been?" I smile at her, as authentically as I can manage.

"Very good!" she tells me matter-of-factly. She looks at me over for a moment and then frowns, "Cawl said you were sick, you don't look sick."

"I'm feeling much better now actually," I tell her.

Her eyes look sadly at me, "Does that mean you'll be home soon?"

"Yes, sweetie, I'll be home very soon," I promise.

Her frown turns upside down and she bounces on her knees a little, "Then you can read more stories?"

Her energy is too positive to not smile, "Of course, whatever stories you want."

"Good!" she beams, "Cawl's comic books are good, but not as good as your stories." her smile is so sweet and innocent it hurts. She has no idea. No. Idea.

"Thank you Judy," I grin back at her, "Tell you what, if I'm still here tomorrow, bring a book when you come to visit, and I'll read it to you."

"Really?" her face fills with delight, "Ok!"

Then she looks at Carl for his reaction, but he's zoned out or something, with that same blank look on his face.

She turns back to me, her little eyebrows knit together, mouth bent to a straight line, and her head tilts trying to understand, "Why is Cawl sad?"

Her words are heartbreaking. And I have to bite my tongue, trying to think of a way to tell her, or to lie.

"He's not sad, it's just, since I'm here, he doesn't get any stories either and he misses them." I give her a reassuring smile.

"Oh, ok." she perks back up

Rick takes this opportunity to step in, "Come on Judy, Beth needs to take you to Paula's."

"See you later!" Judy climbs off the bed and toddles back over to Rick, who leads her out and comes back a moment later.

"So, what's really goin' on?" he asks, walking closer to the foot of the bed.

"I have cancer," I hate those words. I hate them, I hate them, I hate them.

Rick's eyes grow wide and his gaze go from me to his son and back to me, he takes in a deep breath and runs his hand over his beard. He thinks for a while longer as he tries to collect something to say. Finally he gives a slow, almost painful nod, "I'm sorry. That's... terrible."

"So I've heard," maybe I'm being too bitter about this.

The door opens and it's Dr. Cloyd, "Hey Sam, I was hoping we could discuss some... options you've got."

I nod, "Please come in." Dr. Cloyd sits in the empty chair to my right.

"How are you feeling this morning?" she asks firstly.

"Much better," I inform her

She nods, "Good," she looks at her clipboard with the notes, "Now, about your condition."

"Is there any way we can tell for sure whether your diagnosis is correct?" Carl demands

Denise nods, "Yes I was just getting to that."

Carl mumbles something that sounds like good, and he sits down next to me on the bed, his hands wrapping around one of mine.

"We don't have the facilities here to test it of course, but there is a hospital with a backup generator not too far away that should have a PET scanner. We can make sure it's cleared out and get you up there within a couple days- a week at most."

"And say you're right," my voice drops out, struggling to make it past a broken, nervous whisper, "then what happens."

Dr. Cloyd's expression goes grim, too grim, nothing good can come from this, "Then we find out how long you've got."

"You can't treat it?" Carl's tone is a deadly calm, I'd be less concerned if he was screaming and angry, "You can't give her any more time?"

Dr. Cloyd shakes her head, a grimace upon her face, "We don't have access to the kind of treatment she would need. I'm very sorry, she's got to fight this battle on her own."

Carl remains silent and Rick looks from me to Carl and back.

No one says anything for five or ten minutes, Denise begins to stand when Carl speaks up.

"Hold on Dr. Cloyd, could you stay for just a moment longer," then he looks at me, "Sam, can we please discuss this idea about you leaving here, today or tomorrow?"

I turn to him and shake my head, "What are they gonna do for me Carl? There's no point in me sitting here on my ass wasting valuable resources, I have to pull my own weight, I'm not gonna let myself be useless. If I stay here until I die, I'll just lose my mind faster, staring at these goddamn walls all day long. I don't want that." I tell him bluntly, trying to put a little more empathy into my words, I try again, "I want enjoy what days I have left Carl. I've been given today, I may not get tomorrow. But then again, you may not either. So we have to enjoy it while we have it. If you think about it, not much has changed. We've trained our minds for the fact that we may not live to see tomorrow, but you don't take it into account with stuff like this." I gesture to the room around us, "So maybe I can't go on like this forever, hell knows I haven't got that long. But until it becomes unsafe for me to live my 'normal' life, I want to live it that way. I'm sure they can hook me up with some pain medication here for the headaches and maybe something for the nausea, but other than that, she just said there's nothing else they can do. So why, why can't I leave?"

I'm not sure whether I believe what I just said or not, maybe I'm losing my mind faster than I thought, or maybe I said it to try and put Carl's mind to rest.

To my surprise, Dr. Cloyd nods, "I think you going home will be fine, for the time being, as long as you're healthy enough to maintain a normal job. We'll release you the day you do the tests, after that, you're free. That way we can eliminate any unforeseen variables."

_I guess I can live with that_, "Thank you Dr. Cloyd."

"No problem." she tries to give me a reassuring smile, then she stands to leave, "Hang tough, kid, we're rooting for you."

She shuts the door behind her, and I know what I have to do now, "Rick, would you mind giving Carl and I a moment alone?"

His brow tugs down for a second, but it lightens back up and he nods, "Sure." He turns from the foot of the bed and is gone a moment later.

"You can't do this," I shake my head at Carl.

"Do what?" he narrows his eyes

"Shut people out. Act like I'm already gone. The world is not over, Carl. It won't even be over once I am gone, so please don't act all cold and... well how you were acting earlier and apparently how you've been acting since you left here last. Your sister_ noticed,_ Carl. Judith. The four year old. She asked why you were sad. That's just not ok!" it feels like my heart is crushing in on itself, "She looks up to you. You have to set a good example. And what'll happen when I'm gone? What will she see then? What is she going to think? I don't want that kid to turn cold, she's been given a chance here. But if you show her the you that acts all mopey and shit all the time, she'll never know."

I'm running out of reasonable things to say.

One last thing, "Please, fake it. Just around her, if nothing else. Don't let her learn too young what a terrible place this world is."


	9. July 1st

I'd like to say I was shocked when they told me that Dr. Cloyd was right. That when I saw what my brain looked like, I was left speechless. That the squeeze of Carl's hand as he too saw how much my brain lit up in colors it shouldn't, it became too much.

But it wasn't, not really at least, if anything it gave me a sense of ultimatum. The last straw. The final nail in the coffin.

"You've got a pretty nasty tumor in your dorsolateral prefrontal cortex." Denise explained, "Which would explain short term memory loss or lack of alertness." Carl's other arm is wrapped around me and pulls my shoulder tightly against his.

"So," Carl pauses, his jaw trembling slightly, "is it as bad as it looks?"

Dr. Cloyd's lips tighten, and she doesn't reply right away, "I can't say for sure. I was never an oncologist, nor did I aspire to be one. Actually, I was a general practitioner, convenient for most apocalypse needs, just not this." her head shakes slightly and I make myself nod like I understand, "Really, there's no way to know how bad the cancer is without a sample of the tumor, but I will come out and say right now I refuse to do that. It would further jeopardize what life span you have left and I can't take that from you. However, from what I can tell, keeping in mind my lack of total knowledge, this is probably a grade III tumor. And on a scale from I to IV, that's not too good."

"How long?" I make my tone stay firm, "How long have I got?"

Denise clicks her pen against the clipboard with the pointless notes, "Without treatment? And especially when it's already this big? You won't make it to winter."

It becomes different suddenly. I mean, before all the bullshit, I knew I was going to die, but I hadn't much to fear because it was inevitable, we all died.

This is an entirely unequivalent beast. Now I stare helpless at the thing that will kill me in a matter of months and I know this is what will be my killer.

The latter is a much more dramatic sensation, the fear and panic rises up inside, as the body desires to live and all it possibly wants is to flee. But it cannot.

I cannot.

I'm stuck here in this seat, in the dark room, staring at a screen, clinging desperately to Carl, and he holds me back as though he intends to never let go. All I want is to cry, because even though I've been facing facts for a week now, it's suddenly become more real, I can't trick myself into denying it. It feels so raw, burning my throat and my eyes, taunting me. _Cry._ It demands, _show the weakness you know you feel._

But I look at Carl and I know where his mind will go if he sees me scared, _I can't. He's strong, but everyone breaks at some point._

"We can make this as painless as possible for you, with the medicine and all. But as far as time goes, like I've said before, there's just nothing we can do. Please know that I am truly, truly sorry." she lays her sympathy on a little thick in my opinion.

There's silence for a while, because honestly, what can you say?

Carl speaks up stiffly, and the voice doesn't sound like his own, "Well if that's all you've got, then we should probably get back to the safe zone." there's undeniable accusation toward Dr. Cloyd, as if the cancer is her fault. I squeeze his hand, letting him know he shouldn't be so harsh.

Denise nods, "Of course, but can I have a word with you for a moment, Carl? _Just_ you," her eyes flit nervously to me, "There's just a couple things I'd like to discuss."

Carl's brow knits and he looks at me, "Sure, if that's not an issue?"

"No, I'll be just fine," I assure him. I stand up and walk out the door, this whole section of the hospital has been cleared, so I don't feel nervous by walking around a bit. Besides, I've still got my knife and gun, nothing is going to get past me.

I wander through the near darkness, the light that shines through the windows at the end of the hallway and through the windows of the rooms with open doors being my only aid. My feet shuffle down the hallway and I lose myself with all the turns I take. The smell of decay and cleaning products linger in the air in a most unpleasant manner. A wave of nausea hits me, but I manage to keep it at bay.

For reasons I don't understand, I stop in front of one room, the door is wide open and I can see a dead bouquet of flowers, or what used to be one, on a dresser. A skirt of dried up petals surrounds the vase filled with brown, withered stems. One petal of the entire bouquet remains, and it's as old and gone as the rest, but yet it still manages to cling on, that last hope.

I walk into the room, one hand on my knife and I blow the last petal away. The last hope is gone. Now I'm faced with the starkness of reality and it's like jumping into a lake of ice water. I turn to see a corpse lying in a hospital bed. The skin all shriveled up against the bone, the lips peeled back, exposing an open mouth and a black tongue that's mostly decayed. There's a hole in the forehead where they must have been taken out. There's a side table beside the bed, and immediately my eyes go to the stack of turned over books on it. Everything is covered in such a thick layer of dust, that the backs of the books are illegible.

I turn over the first book, _Living With Cancer_, it's titled.

_No thank you. _

I set the book on the edge of the bed and flip over the next one, _In Your Finals Days: What to Expect From Yourself or A Loved One. _

_Come on_. I set that book on top of the other.

_One more try._

_Life After Death_, reads a white book with thin black lettering.

_I give up._

I turn away, and march out the door. Of course, _I_ walk into the room of an ex-cancer patient. It _would _most certainly be my luck. I find my way back through the hallways, just as blindly as the first time, my mind whirring. I'm so out of it that I nearly smack into Carl.

"Whoa!" Carl grips my shoulders and I look up from my Docs, "There you are."

"Sorry," my eyes grow wide, _I've got to pay better attention_, "I... was just thinking. Too much," I smirk a little, trying to lighten the mood.

His eyes run over me, still obviously concerned, "Yeah, I guess so." he pauses and then opens his mouth to say something else, but must decide against it because his mouth closes again.

"We should head back," I comment

He nods, "We should," he grabs my hand and we walk back to the van.

Carl's gotten better over the last week, he's definitely acted better in front of Judy. But you can still see glimpses sometimes, the sad look in his eye, the way his looks linger in a way they shouldn't, the blank look on his face he gets from staring at nothing for too long. The past week he and I haven't really talked much, about the serious stuff that is. He works to keep his mind busy, bless his soul for at least that much. So we only see each other for a couple hours, and during those few hours, normally we entertain Judith, by reading or telling stories or whatever it takes to keep her happy. So the rest of the time is generally spent on how his day was- seeing as mine are never too eventful. I can't tell if not talking about the serious stuff is to a benefit or not, maybe secretly we both hoped that not bringing it up would make it less true, that's clearly not an option anymore.

Carl and I sit together in the back of the van, I can feel the fatigue setting in on me. My head rests against Carl's chest and I feel his arm wrap around me, gently pulling me into his side. I feel my eyes shut and his lips press against the top of my head. This is the last sensation I feel before falling asleep.

"Hey," my ears sharpen and I begin to stir from the doze. I blink open my eyes, "Come on, we're back." Carl tells me. I exhale and sit up, blinking a few more times. After a moment, the van stops and everyone piles out. The sun is nearly almost setting so it must be dinner time. Carl and I walk to the pavilion and after we pick up our food, we sit at our table where the rest of our group is.

There's a nervous tension in the air. Everyone knows where we went today, well everyone except for Judith, she's pleasantly ignorant to the situation as always. We sit down and I immediately look down at my plate, I haven't much of an appetite tonight, which I'm told is another side effect, loss of appetite.

_Why does everything seem to be a goddamn side effect? _I squeeze my fork tightly in my hand, much tighter than forks are meant to be squeezed and I try to keep calm even though I feel all the eyes on me.

"Sam!" Judy says, breaking the silence, and now I make myself look up, "You came to eat with us!" she gets out of her spot and toddles around and hugs me from behind, "Are you better now? You aren't sick anymore?"

I turn around and hug the kid back, "I'm much better, thank you." my heart aches at the bitterness of truth, "I'm still sick though, but don't worry you can't get my sickness." I promise her.

Her big green eyes look up at me hopefully, "Will you come home tonight?"

"Yes, sweetie, I will. And I can read you whatever story you want tonight," a smile I don't have to force comes to my face.

Judith gives me another, extra tight hug, "Yay!" she giggles and runs back to her seat next to her father.

Beth is on Judith's other side, she bends her head down, "Now Judith, what do you say to Sam?" _I guess maybe we're trying to teach the kid manners?_

"Thank you!" There's that big grin again.

I smirk back, "No problem kid," my chest feels lighter now, and I manage to put down a little over half the food on my plate. I give Carl the rest, he starts out protesting, but his own stomach gives into temptation and he finishes off my potatoes and cucumbers. After dinner, I head back to the duplex, walking with Carl and Judith, we have to bathe her and put her to sleep for the night and then we're supposed to meet over at Daryl and Beth's house to talk about... things.

Judith's gotten better at this whole bath thing, she doesn't make nearly as much of a mess anymore and she actually is picking up on how to clean herself.

Carl and I wrangle her into her pajamas and then Carl's tucks her in while I figure out what story she wants. _Peter Pan_ she says, Carl and I exchange a glance and then I sit down beside her, with the old, worn out book. Carl sits on her other side and she holds her doll tightly to her chest as I read, like I always do.

Judith falls asleep quickly, and even though the story isn't finished, I quit reading. I close the book and set it on Judith's bedside table and then Carl and I quietly creep out of the room, and then out of the house. We go next door, and everyone else is already there. _Of course they are. _

Michonne is the first pair of eyes that meet mine as I walk in, she's seated in a recliner beside a couch, which Daryl is seated at, there's a space there, presumably for Beth who's walking in from the kitchen, probably getting water for everyone or something. In a wooden chair on the other side of the couch is Rick, his lips are pressed tightly together, one arm is crossed, while the other elbow rests in his hand and he's running his empty hand over his beard. Already trying to prepare himself for the worst.

Carl and I sit on a smaller couch, across from the bigger one. Beth offers us water, as to be expected. Bless Beth, trying to make the best of things, be accommodating. It's good to know even after all she's been through, she can still be like this.

After everyone has a glass of water, Beth sits beside Daryl and everyone's eyes are on me.

I stare at the clear liquid in the clear cup, and I wish life was this clear. That you could see right through and figure out what was on the other side. That there were no secrets or darkness, or things people didn't know.

But the light refracts through this glass of water, and though the substances may be clear, the image is not. The objects on the other side may appeared magnified, distorted, or otherwise not what's really on the other side. And I decide that's a lot more like what life is, we may have a vague idea what lies ahead, but we can't know what happens until we get there.

I think it's time I started being more clear.

"Dr. Cloyd's diagnosis was right. I do in fact have a- rather large- tumor in my cerebrum. Which is like this part-" I point to the general region where I recall seeing the tumor, but maybe it was on the other side of my head, I don't even know anymore, "of my brain. And there's nothing they can do about it, except try and make it as painless as possible." _I'm gonna lose my mind and there's nothing I can do about it,_ I silently add.

But they don't want to hear that, that's the part of the glass that refracts a little bit, the part they can find out when they get there.

Carl stands up and he walks out, just up and leaves, he heads out the back door, and I don't follow him. He probably wants to be alone, or maybe has to pee or something. I don't know, he's a guy, he can do that.

"How long? Did she say?" Daryl's eyes narrow.

I nod, then I stop, because I mean there's not like a date or anything, "She doesn't think I'll make it to winter." as many times as I thought it in my head, it's a lot more difficult to say out loud. It makes an ache form in my chest, and stirs my stomach, bringing back that nausea again.

Beth gets up quickly, as much a woman 6 or so months pregnant can, and walks over and hugs me. Then she sits down beside me and takes one of my hands with both of hers and then she turns to me, "We'll be here for you. I'll pray for you every night." she promises.

I nod like that means something, God hadn't helped us much in these past few years, so pardon me for my faith not being as strong as it could be.

But I still believe my parents and brother are in heaven, and I guess that means I believe that I'll join them... sooner than I would've preferred.

"Thanks," I force a small smile that doesn't expose my teeth.

"I'll make sure Judith gets taken care of," Beth promises, "I know she can be a bit of a handful."

I shake my head, "I enjoy it, really, besides Carl helps me out, it's not that big a deal," _for now_.

She gives me a careful look, "If you're sure. And if you ever need me, I'm literally right next door." then she gives me a hug. Once she lets go, I stand up, I should go make sure Carl's ok.

"Hang in there, kid." Daryl tells me, "I know you're tough enough."

"We're here for you," Rick's words are carefully placed after much thought.

Michonne stands and walks over to me, "It's gonna be ok," though at reluctant at first, she gives me a hug.

If Daryl is my father figure, then I'd say Michonne is the closest thing I have to a mom.

"Thanks, all of you," I tell them earnestly, I couldn't ask for a better family, "If y'all don't mind, I think I'm gonna check on Carl." I turn away, setting my glass down on the coffee table. My head pounds as I walk to the door, I can feel a bad headache coming on, the medicine must be waning.

The back door creaks open, and I step through, Carl's sitting in a large, old, faded lawn chair, and he's turned to me.

I press my lips together nervously, "Hey, are you alright?" I walk over behind the chair and place my hands carefully on Carl's shoulders.

One of his hands stretches up hesitantly, and presses against one of mine, "Yeah, I just... I needed some fresh air I guess." He's a terrible liar.

I gnaw anxiously on my bottom lip, "Can I sit down?"

"Yeah," everything about Carl is tight, his expression, his voice, his muscles against my arm as I sit down, while he tries to make room in the wide lawn chair. His arm goes around me, and my head settles into that place on his chest beside his neck. My legs sprawl over his lap, the metal arm of the chair presses into my waist, "Comfy?" There's a hint of joking in his tone. Something I've sorely missed for a while now.

I smirk at him, "Very much so, thanks for asking." I look up at him and my fingers brush the hair out of his one good eye, he still wears the sunglasses with the one lens poked out. I tip up the brim of his hat just slightly so that moonlight catches more of his face, "Now will you tell me why you're really out here?" I practically beg.

He looks away from me and mumbles something unintelligible.

"What? Can you repeat that?" I ask as gently as possible.

He coughs, clearing his throat, reminding me of way back at the prison when he caught the walker flu and I was scared he was going to die. But I did something about it, and now he's still alive. Then I look up at his eye. I thought he was going to die then too. And I realize then that I've been where he is now, only I had hope. There was always the chance that he'd live. But with me...

"I couldn't hear it again." He blurts out, finally, "I didn't _want_ to hear it again. I know it's pointless to deny it, but that doesn't mean I have to like it. It's bad enough hearing it from the doctor. But from you, like you believe it." He shakes his head, "I..."

"I get it," I stop him. I don't want him to go on any longer, "you don't have explain yourself. I understand."

My head rests back on his chest, I close my eyes trying to fight off the headache that remains adamant.

His fingers graze slowly over my hair, "What about Judith. What are we gonna tell her? One day we just tell her you're gone?"

I grimace, "I don't know. She doesn't know what cancer is, much less have a vague understanding of it."

Carl shakes his head, I can feel him grinding his teeth, the muscles in his neck taut, "I don't even know why I'm bringing this up, you have other things to worry about."

I sit up, and I give him a firm expression so he knows I'm serious, "Carl, I love that kid like she's my sister. I _am_ gonna worry about it. I mean, I think I should think while I can." There's a certain bitterness in my tone, and I regret my words. I don't want to admit that there's a crippling weakness ahead of me. It increases the crushing pressure on my head. I need to calm down. My hand squeezes his, I force my tone to be much more soothing, "Come on, let's go inside."

He looks at me for a moment, his lip tight and jaw firm, then the look in his eye changes and he nods, "Alright." I stand up first, and then half pull him to his feet, and I sneak a quick kiss on the cheek. The moonlight casts silver shadows on his face, exposing the slight smirk he has now._There, I knew I could get him out of that mood._

We go to our room, and Carl calls first dibs on the shower, so while he does, I sit on the bed, reading. I finish the book I had been reading, and my eyes go to the pile beside the bed, searching for a different story. My eyes go down the column reading the spines until they find the unlabeled one, and though it wasn't my initial purpose, I carefully slip out the book. The binding is hard and rather worn, the cover is a faded red with gold piping on the side.

My mind pulls up a memory from years prior when I received this book, _a different kind _he called it.

My mind whirs more the longer I stare at the object in my hands, my fingers curl around the unmarked spine. Then my eyes go to the bathroom door, the roar of running water has stopped. Quickly I bend down to my backpack and I stash the hardback for a later time. Then I grab the book on top and start reading before Carl returns to the bedroom. The door creaks open a few minutes later and my eyes move from the page and I set the book down.

"It's all yours," he nods to the bathroom, dirty clothes in his left hand. He's simply wearing basketball shorts now, and there's a couple beads of shower water on his chest, probably from his soaking mop of dark, shaggy hair. I close the book and I get up, going to the dresser, grabbing my change of clothes and then into the bathroom.

I shut the door behind me, and then I turn on the shower, giving it time to heat up. I strip down and my eyes can't help but go to my body in the mirror. My time here has done me good, I've definitely put on weight, my ribs no longer protrude extensively. My fingers go to the scar of the bullet on my shoulder. A permanent reminder of the past.

_You're letting good water go to waste!_ I point out, snapping me out of my momentary daze. My eyes skim the bottles on the sink counter, a thought forms, but disperses just as quickly as it came, and I dismiss whatever it could've been. I step into the warm patter of the shower and feel the water melt against my tired head, it smooths my hair against my skull, and becomes soothing to the powerful ache.

I quickly shampoo and soap down, the soap is dripping off my body when an uncontrollable hit of nausea claims my body and I double over, hacking up my dinner. My arms stretch out, bracing against the shower walls as my stomach relentlessly heaves. I let out these awful coughs as I try to draw in a breath against the retching.

"Sam?" I hear Carl's call over the smack of shower water on the tile floor, "Are you ok?"

_Great, I've managed to attract a crowd._

The beat of the shower forces my hair into my face as I continue vomit. The water washes the remains down the drain in a relatively swift manner, "Fine!" I manage to reply in between hacks.

My stomach convulses, releasing a round of mostly bile, but then I blink and I cough again, the unmistakable hue of crimson appears on the tile floor, only to be diffused after a moment to a repulsive pink. My whole body trembles with strain, and I cough some more.

_No, no, no. This is not good. Definitely not good_.

I feel tears swelling in my eyes, blurring my already distorted vision, and I slap a hand over my mouth to hold back a sob and possibly more bile.

Uncertainty plagues his tone, "Are you sure?" he asks patiently

I remove the clamped hand just long enough to choke out, "Yes!" I force false serenity into my voice this time.

I must have been more convincing this time, because he doesn't say anything else.

Shuddering breaths pass my lips as I try and calm down, thankfully the heaving has stopped. The pounding of the water I found comforting a few minutes ago has become an arduous, unbearable, weight.

I shut my eyes and simply try to slow my heart rate down. When I feel somewhat better, I reach out an arm and my fingers fumble for the faucet, when they find it, I turn it hard so the water shuts off.

_That's enough shower for one night._

I wipe my mouth, hoping none of the blood stained my face. I step out of the shower, grabbing my clothes, ignoring any efforts to towel dry. I put my undergarments on, and pull the oversized shirt over my head. I squeeze what water I can from my hair. Without another moment's delay I down my dosage of medicine.

I take a last look at the mirror, and I surprisingly look similar to before, just with wet hair, and perhaps a bit more strain in my eyes. I ball up my clothes and emerge from the bathroom.

Carl's at the edge of the bed, arms crossed. He stands quickly and walks to me with urgency. His hands go to my shoulders and his eye is wide with worry and fear. He's not wearing the sunglasses now, it's just me here.

"What happened?" He demands

"I got soap in my mouth," I lie easily, "it was disgusting. Sorry for making you worry, but really it was nothing."

He looks anything but convinced. My eyes run over him, and I think about staring at that shower floor, seeing the blood come from my mouth. The proof that I haven't got long. That I should be living while I can.

Live is brutally short, I'm not gonna be able to do a lot of things in the time I've got left. In the old world, they had the Make-A-Wish Foundation for that. Dying kids could have a final wish granted for them. Now, there's not much that I can do for myself in terms of "new and yet to be done". However, there is one thing I can think of.

"Carl, I've been thinking." I blurt out without too much more thought.

His head tilts slightly, "What about?"

"I don't want to die a virgin."

His eyes go wide, and he bends down some to get eye level with me, like he can't believe the words coming from my mouth, "Sam." Is all he can say, in a breathy tone.

I shrug meekly, with blatant disregard to the fact that I threw up about 10 minutes ago, "I don't. And I know that you didn't really want to before, because of your mom and all. But I'm gonna be real here, I'm not gonna last that long. And I-"

He cuts me off, "Would this make you happy?"

I'm confused by his words, I stammer at first, trying to form an adequate answer, "Y...yeah. It would. I mean, as long as you want to. If you don't wanna, then I understand."

"No I do," he immediately answers, the moment the words passed my lips, and I can't help the laugh that escapes.

He frowns, but it's like he's smiling at my laughter, plainly just trying to understand the matter, "What?" There's a little smirk on his face.

I smile back, shaking my head, trying to keep back the chuckle that keeps bubbling up, "You can be such a guy sometimes." I tease.

The smirk grows, the corners of his eyes crinkling, "I hope I'm a guy all the time," he points out.

I roll my eyes, the meds have started to sink in, removing some of the tension in my head. I kiss Carl, and I relax as his arms go around my waist, letting the night take us where it will.


	10. July 17th

I open my eyes one morning. I'm lying in the bed I share with Carl, only Carl isn't there. The room doesn't look like it should. Everything has a white glow to it, the walls are white, the sheets the cover me are white, the light streaming in through the window is white. _Everything _is white.

Then three figures emerge from the whiteness, they are all clad in white as well, but I recognize them. Tears form in my eyes and I launch myself from the bed, heart racing with excitement, but then fear over takes it at the possible meaning of this all.

"Mom, Dad, Noah," the words slip from my mouth. _But they're all dead, does that mean_... then my thoughts slip out too, "Am I..."

My mom speaks up, her face has an angelic glow and she looks much happier than in the final days I saw her. She looks at peace again, she looks like the woman I used to come home to everyday from school, "No sweetheart, you're not dead."

"Not yet," there's an uncomfortable bitterness to my tone.

My father's expression then becomes much more pained, "No, not yet." like he knows what's coming.

"I miss you, all of you," my heart aches with a yearning to be near them. To be with them.

"We miss you too," my parents promise.

"We'll all be together soon, then we can be happy in heaven forever." my words sound so foolish and innocent. Is this what I really want? To be dead?

"_We don't want you_ here." they all say at once, their tones changing instantly. It's flat, heavy and somehow knocks the air from my lungs.

My lower lip trembles and I stretch out towards them, "Daddy."

He swallows reluctantly and steps back, "You need to stay there. Where you belong."

Tears begin to swell in my eyes for a different reason, "Isn't it nice in heaven?"

Noah nods almost painfully, "It's real nice here, but you have a new family. You should be with them. Won't you miss Carl?"

_They know about Carl._

"Dad, there's something I should tell you," I start off

He shakes his head, "You don't have to say anything. He's a good boy. Stay with him while you can. We'll always be here for you."

"Don't give up sweetheart," my mother has tears in her eyes, "once you're gone, you're gone. You can't come back."

My whole body trembles, tears in my eyes. I stretch out for them one more time.

Then everything begins to fade and their image gets foggy, I lose my sense of orientation and I manage to call out, "I love you!" before I wake up.

I feel the weight of Carl's arm around my side his warm breath on my neck, and I relax substantially. It was just a dream. That's all it was, a dream.

I turn onto my back and stare at the ceiling, it's probably an hour or so before dawn, so I'll let Carl sleep. I doubt I'll be able to fall back asleep. The dream was strangely powerful for me, not in a good way either. It shook me hard, threw me for a loop. All I can think about is how I said I_wanted_ to be dead. I wanted to.

But that... it's just not true. I'm at- or I was at- a point where the real life was better than the dreams. And I want that again. I don't want death. I'm not suicidal. I want to live! I want-

"Sam?" the groggy mumble of Carl stirs me from my trance and I realize I'm sitting up, and I then I realize I was talking out loud. That's been happening more and more lately, my filter of what I say out loud versus what goes on in my head has been deteriorating.

I hang my head, "How much did you hear?"

He sits up and runs his hand over my back, "Not too much, just you going on about not being suicidal." his tone gets more focused and his brow creases, trying to put together everything, "And then you started shouting. Hell, when I first heard you I thought you were talking in your sleep. Is there something you need to tell me?" I can feel the worry in his look.

"Just a nightmare," I reassure him.

His fingers slip around my waist, his grip tightening and he pulls me a little closer, "Do you wanna talk about it or-"

"My family, I... I saw them." I frown and my brow creases as I try to figure it out for myself, "They were in heaven and they... they didn't want me." I shake my head and I stare at nothing.

My head rests against Carl's shoulder as he tries to comfort me, "It's ok. It was just a nightmare, like you said." I nod, and Carl's hand runs through my hair. There's a time of silence, and then he speaks up again, "Are you sure? About today?"

I've been taking it easy for the past few weeks since my return from the infirmary. Morning dishes, watch the kids, do laundry, light farm work, are the medial tasks given to me. But I've finally convinced them to let me go on a run again, that one's got to be my favorite.

"Yes. I'll be fine. I want to do this. I'll be with you the whole time, it'll be ok." I urge him, I'm not going to back down now.

He nods, understanding my desire. He couldn't wait to get back out on the run circuit after his eye got better.

"We better get to it then," Carl lets go, "We're wasting daylight."

I snort, "That's a funny thing to say when it's not even dawn yet." I stand up and go to our dresser, I grab a shirt and pants for Carl and toss them to him. He stands up and mutters something, "What am I going to do without you." it sounds like he could be joking, but there's pain there as well.

Truth be told I've been thinking about it, what's gonna happen to him when I'm gone. I slip a green racer-back tank top over my head and walk over towards him, "You'll find someone better, someone who won't crap out on you and die after a few years." I initially make it a bitter sweet joke, but the look in his eye is too much, and I get serious. "I'm telling you now, that's what I want. I want you to be happy and find love again. I know you will."

My hands, which had previously been gingerly places on either of his arms now wrap around him in a hug. He hugs me back, but loosely. "Ok." he halfheartedly mumbles. I let go and he doesn't. He holds on for a moment longer, his grip tightening, but then he releases and doesn't look at me. I frown, but decide to let it slide.

I put on a pair of cargo cut-offs that touch the middle of my thighs, I lace up my Docs, and then I go to the bathroom. I braid back my hair, and put down pills trying to prevent the onrush of a terrible headache with the repercussions of paralyzing nausea. I decide even though the heat will be tremendous, given the time of year, today will be a beanie day so I slip on my old beanie as well.

I give one last look into the mirror, and I could almost be mistaken for the Sam that first arrived at the prison, the good old days if you will, but there's more wear in my eyes, and I don't look as young any more. Too much has happened, you can never go back to the good old days.

I tear away and when I walk out of the bathroom, Carl is ready. It's our day to take care of Judith, so we head over to her room, and just the cracking open of the door wakes her up.

She bolts upright and jumps off her bed and runs over to us, hugging Carl's legs then mine. I pick her up, "How are you this morning kiddo?" I smile at her and she hugs my neck, as much as I plead that I enjoy taking care of Judith, I can't help but notice, they're slowly edging her away from me. It's subtle, but I do see it, and it breaks my heart when she does stuff like this.

"I'm very good. I'm glad to see you!" she beams happily at me.

Carl comes up behind her and starts to tickle her, "What about me?" he teases, his tone so joyous and light, "Aren't you glad to see me?"

She squirms and giggles, kicking her little legs, making her a little hard to hold. Carl takes her, and he blows air right against her stomach, a raspberry my dad used to call it. Judith shrieks and giggles some more.

"Yes! Yes!" she squeals, that wonderful smile ever-present, "I'm glad to see Cawl!"

He kisses her forehead and smiles at the younger child, "That's what I thought." he sets her down, "Now come on, let's get you dressed, it's time for breakfast." they walk together over to her dresser and he grabs a baby pink sleeveless dress with lavender stripes. She grabs the dress from his hand, and dresses herself. Well, with some help from me. Carl helps her get her shoes on while I put her hair into pigtails, then Carl takes her to go brush her teeth.

Already, the medicine isn't enough. My stomach churns, and I have to blink extra hard to keep my vision working the way it should. Though I've hardly done a thing, my breathing is heavy and labored, I lean against the door frame to the hallway for support.

When Carl emerges with Judith, I stand back up and we all head to breakfast.

By this time the sun is over the horizon and the air smells clean, like it might've rained last night. The damp ground beneath my Docs is enough to confirm my suspicions. Judith asks if we can swing her, and though I say sure, Carl takes one look at me and knows I'm not up to it, so he offers her a piggyback ride instead. Judith likes this idea, and soon she's sitting on Carl's shoulders playing with his hat while he holds her feet.

I take Judith to sit down at our table while Carl gets our breakfast, "You won't let Cawl get hurt again will you?" she asks out of almost nowhere.

I bite my tongue, her words make my heart hurt, "No sweetie, that was a bad accident. I promise I'll bring him back safe and sound. Maybe even back soon enough to play dolls with you before dinner." I smile at her. We're first at the table this morning, Carl brings our food, then his dad shows up. Then Beth and Daryl, and Rick says Michonne was on a patrol late last night and won't be at breakfast this morning. Beth's really getting big now, they've already taken her off of the most laborious tasks, it won't be long until she's not working at all.

I'm suddenly hit with a strong wave of fatigue, and my eyelids droop. I force them open and nudge Carl, indicating we should probably get going, Beth offered to take Judith to daycare this morning anyways.

As we walk to the armory, I press my nails into my palm, trying to wake myself up.

"How are you feeling?" Carl asks, the question is innocent enough, he asks the question multiple times every day, but it's like he can tell I'm already exhausted even though it's barely past sunrise.

I nod, "Fine." my nails dig deeper, still pushing to keep my eyes from shutting. I focus on the ground in front of me, the asphalt road is littered with cracks and nature trying to take back what once belonged to it. Bright green blades of grass contrast against the blackness of pavement.

_Why is green... green? Who decided that green was supposed to look like that? Why didn't we call it blue, or orange? What determined- _

There I go again, creating pointless tangents, I really need to get better at focusing. It used to be so easy.

As I chastise myself, I feel a warmth cover my hand. I briefly glance at the hand, and realize that Carl just grabbed it. So I uncoil my fingers and lace them with his.

"Bookworm, I need to know now if you can't make this run. I don't want you to endanger yourself." Carl pushes.

_Why do I have to be so obvious about everything?_

"Carl," I sigh, no point in beating around the bush, "you and I both know nothing is going to stop me from going on this las- this run." I correct myself, I swallow and gnaw on the inside of my lip nervously, "So just save your breath and stop asking."

_God, I sound like such a jerk! This cancer thing is doing me no favors._

_But hey, if I get him to leave me before I'm gone, then it won't hurt as much for him right?_

_So I should definitely be an asshole more often. Him deciding to leave would be good._

"No!" I shout out loud.

_How am I supposed to talk my way out of this one?_

Then something strange happens.

Carl says nothing.

Nothing. Zip. Nada.

He just continues like nothing happened. As though he never heard it. Although he must have, right?

_Or was that in my head too? _

I'm not sure whether to be relieved or worried.

We reach the armory and Sasha is there with Heath. Scott's nowhere to be found, but then I remember how he broke his leg on a run a couple months ago, and hasn't been back since. I hope he recovers soon.

Instead, David and Betsy are with us today. I like them, they know what they're doing and they get stuff done. We load up on our weapons and then pile into the van like we always do. The familiarity of it all gives me a buzz of adrenaline and I'm no longer sleepy.

Today we're raiding the last quadrant of an apartment complex that the run crew has been working on for about a week or so now.

We're working in pairs, going one apartment at a time.

Carl and I take the hike up to the third floor, because that's where we've been assigned. I'm not going to lie, that many stairs was exhausting, I was huffing and puffing by the time we made it to the top. Carl stops, and runs his hand over my back, while my hands are on my knees and I'm bent over, trying to catch my breath. He lets me take my time, though I try to recover as quickly as my body can manage. Even when I do stand, around a minute later, I'm not completely better. I pull out my gun, and Carl stands in front of me as he kicks open the door, he runs in and looks around, making sure the initial coast is clear, then I fall in after him.

"Clear first, clean second." he repeats the instructions given by Sasha, I nod and I go into the room closest on the left, while he goes into what appears to be a kitchen. I push open the door, I step in, back pressed against the door. I scan the room with the muzzle of the gun and my eyes. My finger hovers over the trigger and the safety is flicked off. I appear to have entered a bedroom. Clothes are strewn around the floor and papers pile up on a desk, never to be moved. I look around for any other doors and go to the nearest one, it's a closet. As messy as its room. I turn and go to the second door.

It's too quiet, we haven't seen a single walker. I've convinced myself there will be at least one behind this door.

I open it as quickly as possible and am instantly overwhelmed. Walkers pour out of the room and I let out a scream. I start backing up, trying to keep my distance. There are so many, and yet how could I have not heard them before? I fire my gun like I've done a thousand times, and it doesn't meet its target. I fire again, nothing. _What the hell?_

My heart begins to race as I start panicking. _BOOM!_ I fire off a third round. It hits the wall, the walkers are drawn to my noise.

_I should call for help._ I open my mouth, but the name can't form in my mouth, it's as though it's on the tip of my tongue. I try to form the person's image in my mind, but I can't picture that either.

Now I'm seriously afraid. I fire off a fourth shot and a fifth, but they are useless._ Why can't I aim?_

My heart surges in my throat, and I trip, falling onto my back. I fire a 6th round, then another, and another. I aim and aim, but they're coming faster and faster, but I haven't hit a single one.

Then comes the noise that makes my stomach drop, the dreading clicking of an empty magazine. I fumble for my pockets, but they're empty. I pull out my knife, but I can't get to my feet. I'm reduced to kicking away walkers. Then one grabs my shoe, I wiggle backwards and try to squirm away from the others. The walker falls, but it's still got a grip on my shoe. I yank and kick with the other foot, when another walker falls on top of me. I'm surprised that it doesn't knock the weight from my lungs, given its size. I stretch, trying to sit up when I see it, its teeth sink into my leg.

I scream. I scream in horror. I scream in fear. I scream in hope that someone, somewhere will hear me. I scream with the realization that maybe it won't be cancer that kills me. I scream because I am disgusted at the slight hope that forms in my chest.

A new scream jolts me from this sickening reality, a different one. I turn my head.

_That's him! That's who I was trying to imagine! _The name still resists forming in my mouth.

"Sam!" he calls again, and there's a strange expression on his face that I hadn't noticed before. He looks afraid.

When I look back at myself the walkers are gone. I am not bitten.

And I feel afraid.

His eyes are wide with fear and his mouth stands open for a moment, then he collects himself. He swallows and finally he speaks, "Sam. What was that?" He goes to his knees and kneels beside me.

I stare blankly ahead, unable to form any kind of emotion, or reaction in general.

"I don't know," my mouth is dry and my voice cracks as I continue to stare ahead, "I thought... I saw walkers."

Fear courses through me like blood, pumping to my brain and my limbs and finally I manage to look at him,_Carl. His name is Carl._

_I couldn't remember his name. I couldn't picture his face in my mind. What- what is wrong with me?!_

I lose it, I start bawling, tears stream down my cheeks, I'm near hysterical. And I can't control it.

_No. Stop. _

_Stop! Now! _

_Sam! He can't see you cry! _

_No! _

_Stop it, goddammit!_

But I can't, My head rests in my hands as I cry.

"Hey," Carl's voice comes out real gentle and cautious.

"I can't come back Carl. I'm... It's real. I-" I can't even form a coherent sentence.

His arms go to my shoulders, "Hey," he says again, almost with the tone he uses on Judy.

"This is my last run. I can't do this anymore." the words come out so quietly they're almost unintelligible. I've known them to be true all along, but I could never come to terms with the reality.

Carl nods, "I know, I know." He's so brave and strong. He knows what he has to do.

I wipe the tears from my cheeks and let out a sniffle.

_I'm so damn pathetic. _

"I'm sorry." I shake my head, "I shouldn't have come, I shouldn't have-" words stop forming and I just stare again.

"Sam?" From my peripherals I catch his frown. Carl's frown. _His name is Carl. _

Abrupt anger overcomes me, "I hate everything!" the tears stop flowing, and I ball my hands into clenching fists and I just want to hit something.

I'm up on my feet in a second and I start to pace madly, "How can I just forget something like that!" I scream at him. He stands too, he's been taken aback harshly.

Carl grabs my shoulders, "Sam, look at me."

Rage boils my blood and I turn roughly, breaking from Carl's grip, I march to the nearest wall and I punch it as hard as I can._Son of a bitch_. Pain radiates in my right hand, and I shake my hand as though that'll make things better. But it doesn't. _Punching felt good. I'll just do that again._

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Carl gets in between the wall and I, just as I pull back my fist to go in for a second punch, "Hitting stuff is not the answer," he says firmly, making insistent eye contact.

I glare at him, but I lower my closed fist, my nails still dig harshly into my palms. Carl notices this and he grabs my wrist. He squeezes and I release the tension in my hand, now it hangs limply in Carl's grasp.

His bright blue eyes hold mine less brilliant ones again, making it so that I can't look away, "Sam. I can't understand what's going on in your mind, so I won't pretend to. But right now, you need to listen to me. Are you listening?" I nod and he continues, "We're going to go back into that living room and we're going to sit. Ok? You and me. We'll sit as long as it takes for you to calm down, we'll do whatever it takes. And then we're going to go home and you're going to lay down and you're going to rest. Maybe stay home for a few days, no working, you won't even have to help with Judith. And then we're going to talk with Dr. Cloyd and see what she thinks. Do you understand what I'm saying?" he tilts his head at me. His blue eyes are fiery with determination, but I see the fear and worry. It's there too. But he's stronger than I am, so he can put that behind him.

I nod again.

His lips purse, "Say something, please."

"I understand," I let out a sigh, and already my breathing is becoming less huffy.

"Good," he manages a false smile and he leads me back into the living room. We sit on the couch like he said we would. And we sit for a long time.

My sanity is slipping. My grip on choice and emotion is fading._Am I fading?_

I sit cross-legged on the couch facing Carl, he sits similarly and he just holds my hands. Looking at me, watching me.

"We're gonna make it through this, Sam," he says, filling the previously long standing silence.

_Well you are. I'm just gonna be dead._But I say nothing, nothing I that I could possibly think of right now would be considered 'constructive'

After another eternity of silence he speaks again, "Would talking help? About something completely... different."

I nod, humoring the possibility, and I think about the most different thing I can. "I miss Christmas." I laugh, "It's the dumbest thing, of all things I could miss, a stupid commercialized holiday. Nearly completely stripped of its original intent. From celebrating the birth of Jesus Christ, to 'who can have the flashiest Christmas lights and yard display'. You always thought, 'This will be the year! This will be the greatest Christmas yet! With this fabulous array of colorful lights and blow up reindeer and snowmen I shall outdo all the neighbors!' But that was never the case, most of the time there were just a bunch of broken light bulbs and the smell of molten plastic in the morning after some freak accident. Sometimes the occasional, minor explosion. Nothing gigantic or anything, just something that made you go 'what the hell was that?' when the neighbor's inflatable Santa blew up. Or the kids across the street were lighting fireworks when they damn well knew they weren't supposed to. Man, those were the days." I study the fabric of the couch, chuckling slightly. Finding those memories and bringing them out felt good, I could feel myself coming back. Carl was right, this is helping.

Carl smirks, "I miss Tuesday nights." when I tilt my head as though to say '_what's so special about Tuesday nights?_' he elaborates, "Dad always took off Tuesday nights, and Mom would make tacos, or we'd buy them, depending on her mood. And Dad and I, we'd always watch a movie. I remember one movie Dad showed me, that if Mom knew I had watched it, she'd have gone nuts. But she was out with some friends or something one Tuesday." he pauses for a moment, thinking, "Now that I think about it, it wasn't too long before he was shot. Anyway, my dad decided that I should watch a 'big kid movie'- or something to that effect. So we watched _Braveheart. _Now, I don't remember too much, but I do remember this guy in a skirt, wielding nunchucks. Crazy, right?" I chuckle, nodding, "And after we finished the movie he said very seriously, 'Now don't go talking about this to your mother, this is our secret.' I miss those days." he shakes his head, letting out a breathy laugh, he stares off, reminiscing.

My mind is beginning to clear some again, as though maybe the whole thing was just a spell, something that comes and goes, but I'll be able to deal with it, "God, I wish we still had tacos, but now we'd be lucky to get some moldy bologna, or stale fortune cookies, or if we're extra lucky, a Slim Jim. Man, I'd kill for a Slim Jim." I decide to stand up and go into the kitchen, because why not.

My legs are a bit stiff from sitting for so long, but they quickly adjust and I walk about 10 feet. There's a bar that keeps the living room and kitchen connected, and then the kitchen itself. I find the design of the kitchen to be a bit... eccentric. The previous owners must have been marine biologists, or maybe just ocean freaks. Because there's blue tile between the counter tops and the cabinets and then above the cabinets is this wall paper border, with turtles, fish, mermaids, dolphins, coral, basically if it looked like it belonged in The Little Mermaid, it was there. The refrigerator was adorned with several pictures, but ten fold that many sea creature magnets. Jeez, the previous tenant was a weirdo. I look around on the counters, I see the plastic bag that Carl's been filling up with what supplies we were to collect. Scattered on an island in the middle of the kitchen are letters, a cell phone, bills, wedding invitations, birth announcements, and a calendar.

My eyes go back to Carl's bag and only then does it dawn on me that I haven't done a goddamn thing in terms of being helpful to this run. So I turn back to the living room and find that Carl's standing, halfway to the kitchen, probably watching to see what I was doing. I turn away from him and for some reason my attention goes to the television standing in the corner. I can see several video game consoles, and my mind gets curious. Why? I don't know. It's probably off on another dumb tangent. I see a Wii, a Xbox, a GameCube, and an Atari? I kneel by the ancient console, jeez it's been forever since I've seen one of these. There's an obnoxiously large pile of video games that makes me think of the house Carl and I stayed in that was in the neighborhood of the pudding house. That was a couple years ago, it seems like a different lifetime. So much has changed.

Carl walks up behind me, the power of video games controlling him. He starts to go through the pile and he stops on one. It's for the Atari, "Wolfenstein 3D." he speaks in a tone that's been triggered by an old memory.

"Did you ever play that?" I ask

He nods, "Yeah, but it was on this old computer my dad had, I played it a long time ago. It was pretty weird. Like you fought Nazis and... oh yeah! There was this one boss level, it was insane and strange- yeah, now that I think about it, it was really strange. It was Hitler, right? But... like a robot, mechanical Hitler, with just his head connected to this huge body suit." he frowns, trying to remember, "I'm not making any sense am I?"

I laugh, shaking my head, "Not at all. Are you sure you aren't making this stuff up? That's literally the dumbest thing I've ever heard. That sounds like something you dreamed up after reading too many crazy comic books."

"Well, that's what I remember at least. I swear that was what happened though!" he vouches, he frowns after a moment, "Come on. We really should be getting back to the van. I don't want to worry Sasha." He stands up and pulls me up too. I feel like apologizing for being so useless on this run, but I have a feeling that it wouldn't do any good. So I wait by the door while Carl grabs his bag and then we head back to the van.

When we get there, everyone else is waiting for us.

Sasha first appears relieved to see us, but quickly her brow furrows, "Where have you two been?" Her arms are crossed and she glares at us.

I look to Carl, because I don't know what to say, luckily he's quick on his feet, "We just wanted to check out a couple more of the apartments, we had pretty slim pickings though." He lifts his meager plastic bag, which is a little more than halfway full.

Sasha looks to me, "I put what I found in there." I point to Carl's bag. She looks between the two of us, I know she's not convinced, but at this moment I don't care. My head is pounding, and the grip I thought I had recollected is slipping again. My legs feel weak and once Sasha turns around, I lean against Carl.

"Are you ok?" He whispers, arm going around my waist.

My eyes squint shut and I shake my head just slightly before opening my eyes and stepping forward.

We get into the van and leave the complex. It's a rough ride home that doesn't end well. We seem to hit every bump, pothole, and crack in the road. Maybe even the occasional corpse. I sway and jump with the van and the whole situation makes my face get paler and paler until I'm aggressively smacking Carl to give me the plastic bag because I'm choking back puke. Once he catches my cue he empties the plastic bag, scattering the contents across the floor of the back of the van.

He hands me the bag, and I barely make it into the bag. The van jumps again as I'm on my second heave and I get puke in my messy hair. Once my sides ache and I've emptied the contents of my stomach, my body slackens and I rest against the back of the seat and let out a groan.

I stare at the seat in front of me blankly and all thought slips from my mind. Carl takes the bag of vomit from my hand and I assume he ties it up. Then I feel the weight of his arm go around my body. He pulls me against his shoulder, and I think he says something, because I hear noise, but not the words.

Time slips by at an unmeasurable interval. Next thing I know, the movement ceases and Carl is shaking my shoulder.

I flinch upon being stirred from my trance, but then I blink and look at Carl, and I've regained some level of focus. I stumble a little as I get out of the van, and the sun blinds me momentarily as I step onto the ground. I use the side of the van to keep me propped up and Carl gets after another while. I guess he had to pick up the supplies he dropped.

My mouth tastes foul and it dawns on me that I haven't even wiped my mouth. I do that now and then turn to Carl.

"Can you walk?" he looks me up and down, I'm quickly dreading that he'll make his own decision, "I can carry you." he offers, lifting his dark eyebrows.

I shake my head, "I don't want to make a scene, let's just get-" I pause for a moment, my train of thought lost, "home." I finish.

Reluctantly Carl settles for taking my hand and half-guiding me back to the duplex. It's probably a little before the time we usually pick up Judith, so no one should be home yet. When we get inside and Carl shuts the door, I lean against him almost entirely and I feel as though I'm on the verge of passing out.

"Can't make a scene if there's no one to see you," Carl quickly comments before picking me up, one hand behind my back and the other underneath my knees. I'm too gone to fight it, so I rest my head against his shoulder and wait until we reach our bedroom. He sets me down on the bed and I don't want to get up, but I know I have to at least shower. So when he steps back, I stand up.

"I'm just gonna clean up." I reassure him, "Go do whatever you need to."

He shakes his head, "I'm waiting until you're in this bed resting. No changing my mind there, bookworm."

So I roll my eyes and go into the bathroom. I shower as quickly as my half asleep limbs will let me, then I put back on the same clothes. I reemerge from the bathroom and Carl makes sure I have everything I need, before tucking me into bed.

"I'll make sure to bring you some dinner," he promises, kissing my forehead, "Please get some rest."

The comfort of the bed beneath my back, is enough to lull me further towards sleep, "You don't have to tell me twice." I mumble, my eyes closing.

"I love you bookworm." Carl says with more definition than he normally does.

"I," I let out a yawn, forcing my eyes to open for a second, "love you too sher-" and I'm asleep.

* * *

**Just a quick little A/N:**

**First of all, I am so, _so_ sorry it's been so long since I've updated. I've had some real life issues- emergency room, it wasn't fun- but I won't go into that. This is just me apologizing for the ridiculous wait. And I hope you thought this was worth the wait! As always, please review and if you're reading this, thanks for sticking with me.**

**Now onto the real note:**

**So as most, if not all, of you know Season 5 of The Walking Dead premiered and is back. So that means I can continue Sam now! But the real question is, do I finish the spinoff and then go back to Sam? Or should I put this story on hold and continue it during the midseason break?This is where I want the input of y'all, either leave your opinion the reviews or go to my profile, I'll have a poll up there. Please vote if you want your opinion to be heard. Thanks again!**


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